Stray
by Molly Raesly
Summary: Sirius Black's motorbike fails in the middle of a torrential downpour, and he seeks shelter in a rundown diner.  While at first he just returns to fix his bike, the young muggle waitress might be another reason to stay for some pie.
1. June 28th, 1976

**_Stray_**

**by Molly Raesly**

* * *

**Chapter One**

**June 28th, 1976**

* * *

"Ahh, fuck."

A boy of little over sixteen years of age looked heavenward, as though pleading to some unknown supernatural to seek pity on his rather wretched state of existence. When nothing happened, except for the heavy rain continuing to pelt his face in almost a malicious manner, he started murmuring darkly before redirecting his focus to the sputtering engine of the motorbike whining beneath him.

"Not now," he beseeched as he attempted to rev the engine by gripping the handlebars tightly. "C'mon, girl. Don't die on me now. Just a bit longer."

As though it had heard him, the engine gave a triumphant roar before it crackled and let out a last puff of defeat.

The boy groaned loudly and swung his body off the large motorbike so that he could better inspect the smoking engine. The bike, ostentatious, oversized, and dangerous-everything a sixteen-year-old male would want from a vehicle-was useless until he could find a dry place to examine it and perhaps obtain a new engine coil. "Ahh, fuck," he muttered again.

Furiously, he straightened up his back and grabbed the handlebars once more before pushing the heavy motorcycle through the puddles forming on the slippery black road. His thick boots, made of some material that seemed like leather but was a little bit too scaly to be so, were putting up a tremendous effort to try to keep the persistent water out. Nevertheless, his socks were drenched and were starting to chaff.

Once he had reached the side of the road, he propped the bike up onto its stand and sank down beside it. He ran his fingers haplessly through his long, soaked black hair and then pulled his knees up to his chest as he leaned against the bike for support.

"395 bloody galleons, my ass," he grumbled as his shoulder slumped pathetically.

Feeling the rain as it continued to pound against him coldly, the boy reached into his worn leather jacket and fumbled around in his breast pocket. He ignored the long, spindly feel of wood because he was not in the mood for any bloody owls telling him to be a good boy and behave. Besides, he had no patience for Ministry Officials. Mostly, however, he just did not want any notices being sent home-or what had been home.

His fingers hesitated over a box of cigarettes, but he doubted smoking would be very enjoyable if he would have to keep relighting his fag over and over.

Finally, he pulled out a sleek, silver flask, unscrewed the cap, and took a long swig of its contents. He grimaced and hissed as the fiery substance struggled down his throat, but the scorching liquid made him feel slightly less cold, even if it did also make his head start to feel a bit dizzier. He pulled the collar up on his jacket to help warm his frozen ears and then took another guzzle.

When he had emptied the contents of the flask, his throat was burning, but his fingertips were still numb. With a groan, he realized that water had seeped through his dark jean trousers.

The screeching of tires sounded, and the boy raised his eyes to see the dark figure of a car zooming by quickly down the highway. Part of him wanted to leap to his feet and yell himself hoarse in an attempt to get the driver's attention, but he knew he was too damn stubborn ever to ask anyone for help. Resolutely, he stayed put and passively watched the car speed by.

It forced a wave of dirty rainwater into his face as it passed.

Sputtering, the boy scrambled to his feet and yelled a few choice words at the fading taillights of the car, which he could barely see anymore through the thick pour of rain. He turned his attention abruptly back to his enormous black motorbike and with a staunch jutting outwards of his jaw, he yanked the bike back onto the roadway by the handlebars and began dragging the gigantic beast of a machine forward as quickly as he could-which meant that butterflies would have probably outstripped him if any had been around in this weather.

It was very late, and the boy desperately wanted to find shelter. His legs were stiff from all the walking, and his arms felt like rubber against the rough metal of the bike.

He continued trudging along the dark roadway for nearly five kilometers. A few cars passed, but none noticed the dark haired, shivering boy; he was invisible.

When it came to the point when he felt as though his legs were about to sway beneath him, the horizon gleamed with distant lights. Steadying the bike with just one hand, the boy used his other to wipe the rain and dripping hair from his eyes. Off in the distance, he could make out a blurry figure of a building. His haplessness subsided almost immediately, and he hastened his pace forward in sheer desperation.

As he grew closer to the building, he managed to read the sign hanging above the dingy, pink-walled building. It was a diner; "Marty's" to be in fact.

He plodded on as quickly as his listless feet could carry him before finally reaching the entrance. The boy examined his bike for a moment. Half-wanting to find a way to lock it to something and half-wanting to give it a good kick, he stowed his busted motorbike around the corner by the curb of the building before going inside himself.

As soon as the door closed behind him, a bell ringing to alert everyone of his entrance, the boy felt as though he had just sank next to a roaring fire. The relief at finally finding a place with heat and dry air was miraculous.

He looked over his left shoulder to watch the rain pelting down outside in thick, heavy droplets. He had never before felt so grateful to be indoors.

The boy shook the water out of his leather jacket before he did the same to his hair. He was trying to remove the water from his shoes by scuffing them against a mat when a pleasantly plump woman interrupted him with a motherly look of concern on her face.

"My, boy!" she exclaimed. "How'd you managed to get so wet?"

"It's raining," he answered gruffly.

"You haven't been walking out there by yourself, have you?"

The boy shook his head, knowing from experience that it was easier sometimes not to explain things.

"Oh, heaven on earth, let's get you into a booth before you die of hyperthermia."

Not feeling strong enough to resist her persisting arms or the illustrious appeal of a chair, he let the short woman guide him towards a booth on the right side of the restaurant opposite the counter, where he, bending greatly to avoid the low, hanging light, sat down.

The light teal cushion was a bit frayed, but he felt lucky to have it supporting across his throbbing back.

"That's right, you sit down and relax. I'll get someone to get you something to warm you up." She leaned forward and then backed away with a wrinkled nose. "And to sober you up, too."

As appealing as that sounded and as much as the boy's stomach gurgled as he looked up to see the pies and torts on display in the corner, he shook his head.

"You've got to eat something, boy," she told him sharply. "You've gone way past peaky."

His face flushed slightly. "I haven't got any money on me," he admitted with embarrassment in a small voice.

"Well, then it's on the house." With that, she scurried off towards the kitchen. "Someone!" she yelled loudly. "I need a cuppa' and some pie for the bloke out front who looks like he might've drowned himself down a toilet!"

The boy pulled at his leather jacket to try to warm himself up, but the rainwater only made him feel more like a miserable, wet prune than ever.

His head dropped languidly onto the tan table in front of him, and his eyelids closed sluggishly in exhaustion, only to flutter open when he heard a clunk sound a few centimeters away from his face.

His nostrils immediately recognized the aroma of coffee, and he perked right back up into sitting position, his body nearly collapsing into a pile of gratitude at the sight of a large, steaming mug of coffee next to a mouthwatering slice of chocolate crème pie. Immediately, he reached for the mug and brought it up to his nose to smell.

He was about to take a sip when the sound of laughter distracted him. Maintaining his firm grasp around the warm mug, he turned to see a pretty girl about his age struggling, and failing, not to laugh.

"Do I amuse you?" he asked her.

She covered her mouth with her hand as she forced herself to calm. "No, well, yes, I mean," she stuttered as laughter still gleamed in her warm brown eyes. "It's just that Mum's right. You really do look like you've been down a toilet."

The boy stared at her dumbly.

"Sorry," she added before pulling a piece of her long, mahogany hair behind her ear. "You should drink that," she recommended, gesturing to the cup of coffee still in his hands. "I reckon you need some warming up. Do you want some cream or sugar?"

He shook his head and then did as he was told; the scalding hot liquid burned wonderfully as it went down his throat. As he swallowed, he shook his head, spraying water droplets from his soaked hair.

"Bloody hell, watch it," she scolded him. "You're like a wet dog."

The boy smiled hugely for the first time in what felt like ages.

The girl's own mouth formed a small grin as she put a napkin onto the table for him. "You'd probably dry off faster if you took that coat off."

The boy fished it off, which required a bit of a struggle, until he was sitting in just a soaked, white t-shirt.

The girl dropped her gaze to his chest before blushing furiously. She very tactfully chose not to say anything about else about his appearance. Despite the water, he was very attractive for a boy his age. "Say, what's your name?" she asked.

"Sirius," he answered.

"No, really," she pressed. "What's it really?"

He finished another sip of coffee. "My name's Sirius Black."

She opened her mouth to say something but was distracted when a slightly older boy passed by and put an arm on her shoulder. "Bird at section two wants her check," he said with his eyes trained on Sirius.

Sirius's eyes swept from the possessiveness of his hand to the gleaming look in the boy's eyes to the muscles flexing underneath his rolled up sleeves. He tried to force his face into an innocent expression, a sentiment his features were not used to displaying, and then watched as the sandy brown haired boy stalked away.

"Johnny," the girl huffed in annoyance as she watched the tall boy leave. "You could have at least said 'hello.' He's been put in the ringer, this one. Just look at the state of him!"

Sirius did not appreciate being spoken of as though he was not right there listening, but he said nothing.

"Sorry about that," she apologized to Sirius. "Now where-?"

The brunette stopped speaking again as a screech of "ELIZA!" came bellowing from the direction of the kitchen. "Coming, Mum!" she yelled back in annoyance to the voice. "Gotta go," she announced to him. "Enjoy the pie, Sirius Black."

Sirius watched as she shoved her hands into her yellow apron with red trimming and walked away.

Only when she was fully gone from his view did he turn his attention back to the untouched pie sitting in front of him.

He picked up his fork and took a sizeable bite of the rich chocolate filling as the rain continued to pound outside the window. With a contented sip of coffee, he consoled himself with the knowledge that at least he had found someplace dry.

* * *

_A/N: Hello._

_I must say, I am quite annoyed with myself. You see, I have just finished a very long series and was looking forward to some much needed relaxation. Of course, if I had wanted to write, I have three stories already queued up in my brain to write next. Unfortunately, my brain hates me._

_This story came into my mind at one o'clock last night (morning), and I stayed up till about four writing it (I just could not let the stupid thing go). Then I spent much of today sneaking up to my room to write more. I've got a fair bit of this story completed (I'd say I'm about 2/5 done). The format will be mostly similar to this: small snippets that go by chronologically. I'll update every Friday until it's over (most likely a bit over ten chapters)._

_Well, I had always wanted to do a Sirius story. I do quite like him._

_Thanks for reading. Hope to see you next Friday._

_yours,_

_Molly_


	2. July 1st, 1976

**Chapter Two**

**July 1st, 1976**

* * *

Sirius was back at the diner and sitting in the same booth, the faded teal vinyl seat of which he had dripped all over three nights prior. After he had dried up a bit, he had talked more with the woman who had first showed him the booth.

Stout and scatterbrained with flyaway hair that constantly forced its way onto her caring face, her name was Susan Boyd, and she and her husband, Martin Boyd, owned the diner. She had hovered all over Sirius, not allowing him to leave until he had eaten at least three slices of pie, all awhile fretting over the state of his clothing and inquiring about how he had ended up at their doorstep.

Not quite sure how to explain himself, he had decided to go with the simplest explanation possible: his motorbike's engine had turned to rubbish. He had not mentioned that it had been hit by a flying hex delivered by a few old family friends about an hour or so before his arrival, which had resulted in the gradual death of the motor, nor did he mention that he had been, himself, flying the motorbike along London at the time. Sirius had also felt the fact that he was a teenaged wizard could also go unmentioned to the muggle woman. Some things were just best left unsaid.

Nevertheless, he had used as much non-magical charm as he could muster to coax the woman into letting him keep his motorbike propped up against the curb, next to the diner's back parking lot and rubbish cans, until he could get it up and running. It was the simplest solution. Sirius had been far too fatigued to drag the bike anywhere. More importantly, it had still been raining, and he wasn't quite sure where the diner was in relation to his flat. He would have to find a way to transport it later.

Meanwhile, he had waited until they had all left until he flagged down the Knight Bus, something he had foolishly forgotten was an option when he had been roaming around through the torrential downpour, and used it to get to his small, recently acquired and barely furbished flat in London.

Sirius had then made a quick stop by floo powder to his best mate's house for some extremely necessary ranting. James had been a good sport about it, and, even though he could not understand any of the particulars of Sirius's story due to the amount of grunting and mumbling and then yelling and cursing Sirius was doing in an illogical, roundabout fashion, he nodded and grimaced at all the appropriate intervals and later offered Sirius some more firewhiskey.

A part of Sirius wished that he could forever stay at the Potters, but he was much too proud to squander off their hospitality indefinitely. His parents had at least instilled that into his head.

So, apart from the times he was visiting his friends, he lived, alone and utterly bored, inside a small, barely furbished flat, thoughts of his broken flying motorbike weighing heavily on his mind.

After a quick trip to Gringotts to exchange some of his gleaming galleons, sickles, and knuts for fragile-looking slips of paper called "pounds," of all things, he had been to Marty's two additional times in the past few days. On the first occasion he had just gone to try and pay the people back for their generosity, which was shooed away immediately by Susan, who proclaimed, "how can we call ourselves good servants of the Lord if we don't help out the occasional stray sheep when he stumbles through our door?"

Sirius had nodded and pretended as though he understood what she was saying. The Bible's contents were completely alien to him; he had never been one for faith.

Susan then insisted that Sirius be allowed to keep his motorbike out back for as long as he needed to get it running again, even offering to call up some good mechanics for him.

He had politely declined the offer, not wanting to see some bloke's face when he inevitably tested the extra clutch and saw the gigantic bike propel into the air. Plus, he really preferred that the bike be moved somewhere more stable.

Unfortunately, the diner was nearly twenty-five kilometers from his flat, and it would be much too difficult to push a very heavy motorbike that great of a distance. He did not own or know how to operate a car, which he presumed would be different to operate than a motorbike. Floo powder was useless because the muggle diner, which not only did not have any fireplaces, was not attached to the network. When he had asked, the Knight Bus conductor told him that it was against its policy to transport such large vehicles, and Sirius was still not allowed to do magic outside school until he came of age in a few months.

Thus, he had come back to the diner the previous day to put a lock on his bike that was impervious to all unlocking charms and then ordered another slice of that chocolate crème pie.

Today, he had ordered a steak and kidney pie. To his misfortune, it was the tall boy who brought out the dish and not the girl he had met before.

"Anything else I can get you?" the teen asked brusquely as he put the hot plate in front of Sirius.

Sirius's eyes immediately flicked over to where the girl was counting money at the register. A few thoughts swirled around in his mind, and his eyes twinkled with his private joke.

Her eyes looked up and she noticed his gaze before hurriedly looking back down, a pinkness forming on her cheeks.

Sirius turned his eyes back to the boy. It took all his self-discipline to murmur back an appropriate response.

The older boy, presumably named Johnny, as indicated by the nametag perched on his chest, grunted before heading off. "Eliza!" he called as he meandered through the tables. "Go stock the new inventory in the back."

The girl sighed from behind the register and then, with one last, unabashed peek at Sirius, disappeared from view.

Sirius felt as though he would have enjoyed his meal much more if she had still been there. She was very enjoyable wall décor. Plus, Sirius had always found that girls were far more interesting until you got to know them. Then, he found he was mostly disappointed and often bored.

Nevertheless, once he had finished and the ever-pleasant Johnny had brought his check, Sirius had paid-making sure to leave a very generous tip that about doubled his check and would more than pay for his previous, free meal-and started heading out the door.

"Wait, love!" called a familiar frantic voice as he reached out to grasp the door handle.

He turned around on his heel obediently.

Susan Boyd, her brown her flying everywhere, rushed over to him. "Can't let you leave without saying goodbye," she insisted.

Sirius was slightly startled by this proclamation. He barely knew this woman, and she was treating him like an old friend, or perhaps, a member of the family.

"How was lunch?"

"Excellent," he answered matter-of-factly.

She smiled at him and then reached up significantly to pat him on the shoulder. "Good boy," she stated warmly.

Sirius stared at her in puzzlement. He had never met a woman quite like her-sans one, but she was his best friend's mum, and Susan was barely more than a stranger. He was not accustomed to adults caring genuinely for his well-being.

"You'll be back tomorrow, I suppose?"

Sirius thought briefly before nodding. With Peter and Remus currently on holiday abroad, he did not want to spend the entire summer haunting the Potters. He might as well work on the bike so that he could finally ride it home.

"Of course, you'll be wanting to fix up your motorbike. It's a real beauty, I must say. Where'd you get it?"

"Store," he replied.

Susan hesitated momentarily before chortling. "Funny lad," she commented as she lightly pinched his face.

Sirius swallowed uncomfortably and was grateful when she backed away and could no longer reach him.

"Take care, dear."

Sirius nodded once more and looked around to see if the girl had come back into the dining section.

She had not, and he briefly wondered why he even cared.

It was not as though she was more attractive than any of the girls he went to school with. On the contrary, she probably ranked about average in comparison.

Sirius had never had difficulty with girls. At school he could be likened to something of a commodity. In fact, females had been so openly interested in him since he hit puberty that they had loss their appeal. While enjoyable at first, eventually they had made Siriusbecome jaded and disenchanted with the lot of them. It was all very irksome to listen to their insipid chatter and inane giggles. A bird was a bird, and there was always a flock around.

Sirius had no patience for putting up with such a nuisance just for a lousy snog. That behavior was reserved for blokes like Wormtail.

He mumbled a quick goodbye and then left the diner.

* * *

_A/N: Bonjour._

_I'm going to be one of THOSE people right now and do this:_

_Thank you from the bottom of my heart to the following for reviewing the first chapter:_

_cylobaby, Claire Lafleur, Hermione Potter452, MissGoalie75, lizzle1661, isigirl, Sam Storsky, jerseyklutz13, XxXLeanneXxX, BookishBeauty94, Muggleborn-Meghan1992, booklover1998, Foxtail-Padfoot, WantsToBeAWriter13, MrsHill3609, killerbunny117, farrahness, N, Jene, SilverScorpion, LikeAVision, Artemis Fei, crazyelf22, JamesandLilyLover, EmeraldFlower, KneelBeforeTodd, Shannon Bananon, PretzelofFate, tastemylip, ElvesWizardsCentaursOhmy, and Snaps07._

_I don't normally list reviewers like this (mostly because I find it annoying), BUT, I really do especially appreciate all 32 of you. I've never written a non-James/Lily story before. In fact, this story is very different from anything I've ever done. I was really nervous about it actually (it's weird how I still get very self-conscious about new projects even after all the stories I've written). But you all were truly wonderful and supportive and encouraged me to feel less like an overwhelmed idiot. So, truly, thank you._

_Also, I've made two versions of a banner for this story, but can't decide which one to use. Both are on my twitter page. Please tell me which one you like better! Enjoy your Friday!_

_Yours,_

_Molly_


	3. July 5th, 1976

Chapter Three

July 5th, 1976

"Ruddy piece of sodding shit," Sirius grumbled loudly as he gave the great bike a swift kick. He regretted the impulse instantly when the nerve endings in his foot screamed in pain, while the bike remained immobile, as though taunting Sirius by demonstrating his ineffectiveness. "Bloody priceless," he added grumpily.

Squatting down next to the out-of-order motorbike, he ran a greasy hand over his face, smudging motor oil all over his cheek, but not caring in the slightest. He rested his arms against the dark jeans he was wearing and hung his head.

While Sirius knew more about mechanics than the average sixteen-year-old Pureblood wizard, he still did not have nearly enough knowledge nor the skill to fix the bike. Subconsciously, his fingers reached for his wand, but he refrained. Even if he could find the right spell to use, the Ministry would be able to detect that he had used underaged magic in a muggle-populated area. That, combined with all the detentions and warnings he had racked up over the past five years, would assuredly get him expelled from Hogwarts.

Plus, it was not as though he had any family to help plead his case.

With a bit of excitement rolling in his stomach, Sirius briefly entertained the image of himself battling the Ministry officials in a heated duel. He imagined that his triumphant victory against at least six or seven wizards would earn him front page news.

Then he decided he couldn't be bothered. Sirius had no desire to put his face in the paper. His face would probably just be blasted away in the homes of any civilized wizarding families.

He sat dejectedly against his motorbike that housed a failed engine, and as he suspected, a shot transmission.

After about a solid nine or ten minutes of feeling sorry for himself, Sirius grabbed a wrench out his back pocket and got back to fiddling with the bike.

The work was long and tedious, and the sun shone cruelly against his back.

Sweating, Sirius longed to strip off his white t-shirt, but he did not fancy what would happen if he took it off and something metal fell on him. He did not want to add a trip to St. Mungo's Hospital to his current list of misfortunes.

"Let's go, you filthy piece of shit," he grumbled as he exerted every last gram of strength he had in his arms onto an obstinately immovable bolt.

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" a voice asked.

Sirius dropped the wrench in surprise. It landed heavily onto his stomach. The air was completely knocked out of him, but Sirius did his very best not to utter a single sound of pain. Gingerly, he extracted himself from underneath the bike.

Though he tried not to, Sirius could not help but smirk. "Not unless I can help it," he declared somewhat proudly.

"Oh," she said. "Was there, I mean, did she, you know, did something happen? You can tell me you, know, I row with my parents all the time."

Sirius eyed her compliant countenance, straight as a board posture, and prim outfit dubiously. He doubted that the girl had ever spoken back one syllable to her parents. Sirius wiped his hands on the back of his trousers. "Was there something you wanted?"

The girl stared at him curiously before clearing her voice. "I brought you lunch."

Sirius lowered his gaze for the first time and saw that she was carrying a sandwich and a drink. His stomach burbled thankfully.

"Mum wasn't sure what you'd want, so she sent me out with a rueben. Is that okay? I can get you something else."

Sirius shook his head. "S' fine," he assured her.

"Oh, good," she said, obviously pleased, as she thrusted the plate and cup out for him to take.

Sirius grabbed both items and took a greedy bite into the sandwich. It was deliciously warm.

"So, you're, uh, fixing your bike?" she asked curiously as she tiptoed around him to take a look at what he had been tinkering with. She was clearly making an effort to sound casual, but Sirius spotted the way her fingers twitched around the ends of her brown hair.

Sirius swallowed hugely and then took a sip of water to help wash the sandwich down. "Yeah," he answered finally.

"That's pretty wicked," she said excitedly as she straightened out her yellow pleated skirt.

"Would be if the bloody thing actually would run," he muttered darkly. "Then I can finally go somewhere worth my time." Sirius mentally berated himself when he saw a deep frown form on the girl's face. "Er – sorry."

"S'okay," she assured him quickly. "I'd love to go somewhere else, as well. I'm bored stiff of working all of these constant shifts. Would work less if business wasn't going so poorly and we could actually hire – " she stopped talking, and her face went a bit red. "I reckon it's worse in your case, though. It's likely you've actually been someplace worth going. I'm sure it's probably dull as anything to be stuck here for a spell. I mean, we're basically the only thing here," she added as she gestured emphatically at the empty highway surrounding them. Now that she had finally been able to speak to Sirius, she did not seem to want to stop. "You're probably used to more thrilling places."

"You could say that," Sirius replied as he swallowed another rather large bite. His lips curled into a smirk as he thought of Hogwarts in comparison to the shabby diner. Hell, at least his lousy flat did not have cracked tile or chipping paint.

"I wish that I could go somewhere exciting," the girl mused as she fiddled her fingertips together.

Sirius merely shrugged in response and took another bite of the sandwich.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

"London," he answered.

"And you're how old?"

"Sixteen."

"Oh, me too! I wonder why I've never seen you before. Do you go to school nearby?"

"No." Sirius reached down to pick up his fallen wrench. Now that his sandwich was eaten, he was not in the mood to answer a bunch of questions. His initial notice of the girl was completely forgotten. She was already grouped in with the rest of the lot. In fact, her blatant naiveté was painfully unappealing, making her less interesting than he would have guessed.

"Oh," she replied before a smile spread across her face. "Have you always been this laconic?"

A slow grin perked at the ends of Sirius's lips. He chose not to answer her and merely scooted himself back underneath the motorbike.

The girl seemed to have no qualms about his silence and paced over so that she could get a better look. If anything, his lack of speaking seemed to inspire her to talk more – as though she was holding both sides of the conversation. "I don't reckon that's supposed to be hanging out of there like that," she commented as she gestured to the exposed wires.

"You don't say," Sirius mumbled derisively.

The girl chuckled lightly before picking up the empty dish and plate and balancing it in her left hand. "So what does your family think of you…..are your parents just thrilled about the motorbike that breaks down on the side of the highway?"

She was like a fly that refused to leave even after it had been swatted at repeatedly. Sirius pretended as though he didn't hear the question, despite the fact that his shoulders did tense ostensibly.

"I mean, my mum would have a right fit if I just fell off the side of the road in the pouring rain. What did yours say? Is your family really laid back, then?"

"Will you bloody stop asking me questions?" Sirius snapped with more menace than he had really wanted to show. "It's none of your business what my family's like, not that I care because I've ditched them anyway," he grumbled as an afterthought. Immediately, he regretted the slip of tongue. Not only did Sirius dislike when strangers over shared, but now he also had to deal with the flummoxed girl ogling at him as though he was a rare racing broom in a shop window at Diagon Alley.

The girl's brown eyes went as wide as galleons. "You can't just ditch your family," she insisted, as though it was physically impossible to do so, like walking on water. "You're mad! Nobody our age can just walk out whenever they please."

"Well, I did," he told her coolly. He focused his attention back to the motorbike in hopes that she would leave him alone if he ignored her.

It worked somewhat; she no longer spoke but still stood there, watching him, as if frozen to the curb.

Sirius did his best to forget about her and pulled at the fried wires. He rearranged them into their proper spots and then tried to get them to spark just a bit to bring life to the engine. "C'mon, baby," he murmured as he reached up to rub his hand along the warm leather of the seat.

The lifeless bike did nothing.

Sirius growled in aggravation, which was heightened when his onlooker found her voice again.

"So where do you live? I mean, obviously, if you've left your family-which I still don't understand, by the way-you must be living someplace else. Is it nearby?"

Though he would not have answered her, her questions came out so rapidly that he never would have fit a word in if he had been inclined to respond.

"How do you take care of yourself? Is that even legal? Did you obtain some sort of court order? Was your family that dreadful? Did they abuse you? Are you able to talk about it? Have you sought out professional help?"

Sirius huffed in frustration. He was in no mood for this. "Merlin-erm, God!" he covered quickly. "Just drop it already."

"Okay, I'll tell you something earth-shattering and then tell you to drop it, and we'll see how you feel."

Sirius fought the urge to snort. He highly doubted she could tell him anything that would shatter his world.

The silence was almost audible, and the girl was obviously becoming more and more impatient due to the lack of constant chatter.

"Fine, fine," she acquiesced brightly. "I'll leave you to it, then. It's obvious that you don't want to tell me anything and would rather brood about like a bloody idiot out here in the heat with your precious motorbike. My break ends in about a minute, and I'm sure you've got plenty of other authoritative figures left to curse out." She turned around to flitted away before pirouetting and facing him again. "My name's Eliza, by the way, Eliza Boyd."

She was still looming over the motorbike, and he realized that she would not leave him alone until she got a little cooperation from him.

Sighing, the boy wriggled his body out a bit from underneath the bike so that he could see her expecting face fully. "I'm-"

He stopped speaking when she waved her free hand.

"Sirius Black," she answered for him. "I remember."

Normally, this response would not surprise him in the slightest. He was used to absolutely everyone in his social circle knowing who he was, who his great-great-grandfather was, and even which spoiled, snotty slag would be just as pureblooded and have a large enough dowry on her head to obtain the honor of bearing the Black family name.

Yet, this girl was a muggle. She had positively no idea what being a Black meant, nor what the repercussions were for a Black to be sorted into Gryffindor and to be currently located in the parking lot of a muggle diner.

"It made me laugh because you seemed so serious sitting in that booth the other night. I've never seen anyone so wet look so surly before!" she added with a laugh. "Though, Black as a surname? What, were they all out of Purple?"

Sirius craned his neck to stare at the girl. His contact with the muggle world had been so limited, that he had never really been in a situation like this. Imagine – someone mocking his heritage openly without a second thought of the consequences. She knew nothing about his family's ties with the Ministry or its endless tirade of Pureblood mania. This girl was completely ignorant of family tapestries, house-elf beheadings, and Slytherin coats of arms.

She had no idea that Sirius was considered an unspeakable disgrace and disappointment by the whole lot of them.

Granted, it was extremely irritating to have to pretend to be a muggle. Though, without breaking any wizarding laws, it was not as though Sirius could perform magic over the holidays anyway. It was almost as this muggle handicap could be freeing….

All he was to her was a normal boy of sixteen with a silly-sounding name.

It was…..nice.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sirius."

He watched as she sashayed back to the diner entrance and then removed a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and inhaled slowly. He watched the smoke swirl around as he exhaled.

"Bye, Eliza."

* * *

A/N:

So you know when you listen to a Barry Manilow Greatest Hits album and you love every song?

That's this for me.

yours,

Molly


	4. July 11th, 1976

Chapter Four

July 11th, 1976

"So is the leather jacket a cry for fashion help or were you really just trying to appear as hopelessly cliché as possible?"

Sirius groaned as he stuck his head out from underneath the motorbike for the fourth time in the last minute. "What are you going on about?" he asked grumpily.

"Well, it just seems to me that it's a desperate cry for attention," Eliza stated frankly as she inspected the worn leather jacket in her hands. "You might as well have a tattoo."

Sirius shifted his back uneasily against the pavement.

"I mean, from what I've managed to find out about you – no easy feat, I might add – you're a teenage boy living somewhere God only knows in London away from his family and you drive – or at least used to drive – a rather large black motorbike. Don't you ever find yourself feeling like a complete copout?"

Sirius sighed in frustration. Over the past few days, Eliza had been visiting him as often as her work schedule could allow. He would not have minded terribly, for she was rather fit, but she never stopped with the bleeding questions.

"Can't you just accept that I'm not really in the mood to talk about myself?" he asked her angrily.

"Moot point," she told him cheerfully as she slipped her hands through the sleeves. "At least it's warm," she said of the jacket. "Smells lovely, as well."

Sirius opened his mouth to chastise her and force her to take it off, but she looked too jovial; he was in no mind to spread his foulness around to the world. His bad mood was exhausting – but no more so than trying to get her to stop being so sodding cheerful all the time. "Glad you approve," Sirius muttered as he wriggled back underneath the bike with a socket wrench in hand.

He was still waiting for his owl to bring him the last few parts he needed to fix the more magical aspects, but he had at least made significant improvements on the muggle functions of the bike. After pouring over various books on muggle mechanics and motorbikes, he had figured out that the engine could be fixed if he just replaced the compression coil and refastened it correctly. Additionally, he would need to change the oil, but he could do that in only a few minutes.

However, the transmission was completely spent; to his chagrin, the bloke at the muggle store had told him it would take a whole month before the part would come in. More than ever, Sirius wished that muggles had found a more logical way of transporting goods than simple post.

Yet, with the knowledge that his bike could and would soon be repaired, his spirits had begun to peak a bit. As soon as he could get the bike working again, he would drive it out to Diagon Alley and see if he could get some wizard – though a witch would probably be more accommodating – to make it fly again. And then, he'd never have to go to this bloody diner again.

"So, what do your parents say when you first brought this motorbike home?" Eliza pressed as she braced her hands on the handlebars and peered over the bike to gaze down at him. "Must have got it cheap because it seems like utter rubbish. You've been fussing with it for days, and it still won't run."

Sirius shot her an annoyed look.

"Oh, right, I forgot. I should never insult your baby, and you don't talk to your parents because you're too cool and mysterious for that."

Sirius smirked as he continued to tinker with the greasy bolts.

"At some point, are you ever going to offer some information voluntarily about yourself?" Eliza asked feebly.

"Nope," he replied, making a popping sound with his lips.

"Fine," she huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "Then, I'll just tell you about me."

And she proceeded to tell her whole, rather boring and uneventful, life story for the next half hour. Sirius only half-listened to what she was saying, but the information nevertheless latched onto his brain like a gnat to skin – a skill he had developed during his lessons, for he was ridiculously clever but even more lazy when it came to schoolwork.

For instance, he had learned that her favorite color was buttercup yellow and that she favored red roses, even if they were trite and obvious. She was quite fond of the rain, and she wished she could spend more time barefoot. She loved music and told Sirius all about her favorite muggle bands; she wanted to become a singer, but she knew that it was very improbable. She was taking classes at an all girls' school a few miles over but, of course, was on holiday. Her parents owned the diner, and so had her grandparents before them. She had never been outside of the country because her family rarely went on holiday – her father didn't like to leave the diner unattended. She worked long shifts and was the best baker in the family, and though she did love the diner, she desperately wanted to leave it.

"I mean, of course, I love my family. Who doesn't? Well, er, right, sorry, anyway," she continued with an anxious look in his direction as she picked at the sleeves of his leather jacket. "I just feel so contained here, like I'll never amount to anything if I stay, you know? I want to go out there and see the world. I feel like there's so much to see out there, so much I've never even dreamed of – like there's a whole world I don't even know about just waiting for me. It's like I don't know anything about what's out there."

Sirius silently agreed that she, indeed, was very ignorant of a great deal of things, but he chose to keep such knowledge to himself.

"What about you?" she asked. "Haven't you ever just wanted to run as far away as possible and never come back?"

Sirius stopped tinkering with the motorbike and pondered the question. "I dunno," he said finally, appreciative that the bike was blocking his face. "I reckon I've run enough."

His thoughts shifted to James and his steady home life. Right now, he was probably up in his room, able to hear his mum downstairs in the kitchen clanging around pots and pans.

Eliza chuckled lightly.

Sirius pushed himself out from underneath the bike with an affronted expression. "It's not funny," he told her defensively.

She covered her mouth with her hand apologetically. "I wasn't laughing at you," she amended quickly. "It's just that you really are the rebel who just wants to be loved. It's so sweet."

Sirius rolled his eyes as she smiled saccharinely at him, her eyes as thick as molasses.

"I've got you all figured out, Sirius."

"I highly doubt that," he murmured back as he wiped his dirty hands off onto the red handkerchief he had started carrying in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Well, I hope not," Eliza stated. "It'll be much more enjoyable if you really are as enigmatic as you appear."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but he snapped his teeth together when tall Johnny came around the corner.

"Eliza!" he hissed furiously. "How many times do I have to tell you not to come out here? He doesn't want you bothering him, and you're nearly an hour past being inexcusably late for your next shift. C'mon!"

"Give me a minute, Johnny," she requested.

"Eliza," he threatened in a low voice as he crossed his strong arms over his chest. Johnny cast an obvious glare in Sirius's direction. "I have a funny feeling about him. He's trouble."

"I can handle it," she assured him.

"Eliza," Johnny pressed.

"If I'm not inside in one minute, you can personally escort me, yeah, Johnny?"

He frowned and then, after staring into her determined brown eyes, acquiesced to her request.

"Sorry," Eliza apologized as soon as Johnny was out of earshot. "I don't reckon he likes you."

Sirius scoffed. "Whatever gave you that impression?"

She grinned. "He's just being overprotective."

"Boyfriends tend to do that," he mumbled as she shoved his hands into his jean pockets.

Eliza blinked at him in shock. "Boyfriend?" she breathed in a very confused voice. "Johnny's not my boyfriend! He's my brother," she corrected him.

"Oh."

Sirius pushed his hands deeper into his pockets as he kept his eyes trained on his boots. He felt the inexplicable feeling of relief in his stomach, but did not want to entertain even the idea of wondering why. He definitely did not need another complication in his life, and she was only a muggle schoolgirl he would never see again after his bike was fixed.

Eliza shifted brown fringe out of her eyes. "God, all this time, you thought I was dating Johnny?" she asked.

Sirius shrugged noncommittally.

She laughed loudly. "That is either extremely funny or extremely disturbing," she decided with amusement as she skipped closer to him, delight evident on her face.

Sirius shifted his weight.

"I think we might just keep you around, Sirius Black," Eliza stated as she flounced her way back towards the diner entrance. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked hopefully. "Mum always makes the best blueberry waffles with cream on Sundays."

Sirius shook his head. "I've got a thing," he murmured.

"Oh," she replied, her smile fading. "Well, I know it's not family, so a girlfriend, then, right?"

He shook his head again.

She grinned brilliantly. "So you are single."

"Don't you have a diner to serve?" he muttered.

Eliza chuckled. "I'll see you soon, then, Sirius."

"Bye, Skip," he told her as he focused his attention back on the motorbike.

"Skip?" she called out to him.

"Yeah," he replied as he massaged the nape of his neck with his hand. "Cause you never just walk like a normal person, do you?"

Eliza smiled again. "I like it," she declared before waving and scampering away.

Sirius shook his head as he watched her leave. Only after he had positioned himself underneath the bike again did he realize that she was still wearing his leather jacket.

* * *

A/N: The first chapter from my college dorm room.

Smehkaleen.

yours,

Molly


	5. July 17th, 1976

Chapter Five

July 17th, 1976

Sirius thanked Martin, the balding proprietor and namesake of the diner, for his hot mug of coffee and then took a deep mouthful.

He propped his feet up onto the other side of the booth and enjoyed the bitter taste of the brew.

"What's a six-letter word for the flower of London?" Susan announced to the rest of the barely occupied diner as she stared at the gray newspaper in front of her in frustration, grinding an already battered pencil between her teeth.

"I dunno," her son answered while throwing a dish towel over his back and peering over her shoulder. "Did you try orchid?"

Susan Boyd shook her head. "It's got an 'M' in the middle. Blimey, this crossword is going to annoy the living hell out of me. You know I won't be able to concentrate unless I figure it out."

Johnny shrugged. "Beats me. Just try not to think too hard, Mum. You'll pop an aneurysm, and I don't fancy mopping up your brains today. Just cleaned the floors, see."

Susan threw him a dirty look. "Go wash your mouth out with soap till you can speak to your mother properly, young man," she chastised him before chuckling briefly and turning her attention back to the newspaper. "God, what are you?" she grumbled loudly.

"It's Thames," Sirius spoke up from his booth.

"Thames?" Susan echoed dubiously. "But that's not a flower."

"Yes, but it is a flow-er," Sirius corrected her. "A river that flows through London, yeah?"

Susan balked. "Brilliant," she gasped as she filled it onto the newspaper. "How 'bout this one: 'introduction to do-gooder canine?' Three letters."

Sirius thought for a moment before a smirk stretched across his face. "Dog."

"What? How'd you get that? Oh! The introduction meant the first few letters. Okay, here, I've got just a few more."

Susan kept firing off clues as Sirius answered them all after very little thought.

"What are you guys doing?" Eliza asked after her mother had filled in yet another new word.

"Crossword," Susan answered her. "Sirius, here, is a complete genius."

"Oh, really?" Eliza remarked with a gleeful smile as she turned her eyes to Sirius's booth. "That's pretty shocking. I don't reckon anyone with any bit of sense would bung along with a heavy motorbike in the pouring rain. How clever are you, Sirius? Top of the class?"

He shrugged.

Eliza laughed. "I bet you're one of those ruddy annoying types who knows everything and never has to study."

Sirius did not say anything.

"He must study something," Susan said. "I've never finished a crossword completely before today, except when I use the squares to right in orders. You'd be surprised how many clues are for onion soup."

"All right, what's the square root of 324?"

Sirius stared at the young girl in befuddlement. He had no idea what a square root was.

Eliza grinned broadly as she closed the cash register with a ding. "And a flaw is found," she congratulated herself. "C'mon, Mum, there's a few pies out in the kitchen I need your help with."

She winked at Sirius as she passed his booth. "It's eighteen by the way."

Still confused, Sirius watched as she flitted away before he took a sip of coffee. A crack of thunder bellowed, and thick drops of rain began to splatter against the windows and the roof.

A few minutes later, a bell sounded, and he turned his eyes in the direction of the door. A small family emerged underneath a soggy umbrella. Sirius looked long enough to notice a mother, father, boy, and a blonde girl about his age before he turned his focus back to his cup of coffee.

After a few moments, thunder roared, and Sirius looked out the window. The sky was a dismal gray color that cast a gloomy shadow on the already abysmal-looking highway. Rain poured, as if buckets were being cast down from the heavens. Lightning crackled, illuminating the horizon with its brilliancy.

"Reckon it's worse than the night your sorry ass first arrived?" a voice asked from behind him.

"'Lo, Susan," the boy mumbled.

"Afternoon, Sirius," she greeted him. "Why don't you just look right chipper? The morning crossword seems so long ago." She paused to look out the chipped windowsill. "Lovely weather we're having today, right?"

He sniffed in amusement.

"Shame you couldn't work on the bike today. How's that coming along?"

"Good – still waiting on the transmission."

Susan nodded. "I'll get Mart to look at it for you later," she said. "He's no great shakes with motorbikes, but he does know a few things about mechanics. He fixes the blender and the stove whenever they're acting up. Saves us a fortune on repair bills."

Sirius didn't say anything. He highly doubted being knowledgeable about kitchen appliances would translate into fixing a flying motorbike.

"I'm surprised to see that you're still here after all this time," Susan pressed delicately. "You rarely stay this long, and I'd reckon with the weather being this poor and all, you'd be off somewhere else."

Sirius shrugged.

"Didn't have a better offer?" she guessed knowingly, a bit of pity laced into her voice that Sirius wished she would not have refrained from using. "That's okay, pet, you're always welcome here." She placed her hand over Sirius's in a motherly fashion. "By some more than others," she muttered as she looked over to see Eliza spying on them very conspicuously as she refilled the salt and pepper shakers.

Susan sighed, shook her head, and motioned for her daughter to ignore them. "She's not bothering you too much, is she?"

"S'okay," Sirius mumbled.

"She's just excited, see. Eliza's not very accustomed to dealing with boys her own age. I reckon she's already told you that she goes to an all girls' school. We don't get that many lads coming here, especially none that have stuck around like you."

Sirius nodded in comprehension.

Susan held up the pot of coffee in her hand. "Refill?"

"Please."

Three more cups of coffee later, Sirius was still sitting at his seat in the booth on the right side of the diner, directly opposite the counter. The lightning had subsided, and he partly wished it would return. He liked looking at it. It pierced the sky like magic.

Outside, rain was still falling, but at a slower rate; he could hear the _drip, drip, drip_, of the water falling from the windowsill and watched it intently as his mind went blank.

He felt something hit his feet, which were still perched on the other half of the booth, and looked up to see Eliza scooting in opposite him.

She picked up his legs and moved them over to give herself more room with a pleasant smile on her face before placing a loaded plate in front of him. "Biscuit?" she offered sweetly. "You looked hungry.

Sirius eyed her suspiciously as she too innocently watched him pick out a biscuit and then nibble on the corner of it.

Then, Eliza picked up a relatively thin paperback book out of her apron pocket, flipped to a certain page about three-quarters of the way through, and started reading. She was obviously waiting for Sirius to ask her what she was reading, and though he was interested, he remained soundless.

After a fashion, the waiting became too much for her. "Aren't you going to ask me what I'm doing?" she asked.

He kept his eyes focused on the window.

"Ugh!" she groaned. "You're the most – ugh!" she insisted in a huff. "Whatever, I'm telling you anyway. I'm reading a new book. It's American, so we'll ruddy see how that goes. It's called _The Catcher in the Rye_."

"About sandwiches?" Sirius quipped with a smirk, still focused on the weather.

"No!" Eliza persisted. Her expression was so animated that Sirius likened her to a cartoon. Eliza was constantly speaking in hyperbole and behaving melodramatically. Every emotion she had flicked onto her face for everyone to see. It was impossible for her to keep a secret – not that she ever seemed to have any inclination to do so.

"It's about a bloke who thinks he's all rebellious and wonderful – bloody moody is what he is. I thought it'd help me understand you better! Say, have you ever ordered up a prostitute and then not had sex with her?" she chirped inquisitively.

Sirius did not feel as though that question dignified an answer, so he did not even acknowledge that she had asked it.

Eliza became very irritated with his silence; she put the book away. Then, she started jiggling her foot roughly against the side of the table while simultaneously tapping her fingers against the napkin holder. Her eyes were fixed on him, waiting for Sirius to give her attention.

Sirius suddenly became very grateful that he had not spent much time with his little brother.

"What do you want?" he asked finally.

"Why do you assume that I want anything from you? Why can't I just be sitting here?"

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, all right, you knowing git." Eliza stretched out her arms and folded her fingers in front of herself above the table. "If I asked you a favor, would you do it?"

Sirius took another sip of coffee. "Depends."

"You've obviously been asked for a favor before," she sang with a sigh. "Okay, here it is, would you mind moving to another booth farther back, or maybe the counter?"

Sirius straightened up in his seat. He had grown rather used to his side seat where he could keep one eye on the door and one eye on the counter. The view of the parking lot leading to the highway had become very familiar, and he was very accustomed to the way the teal vinyl cushion squeaked whenever he fidgeted in the slightest. "Why?" he asked in genuine curiosity.

Eliza flattened her fringe over her forehead before brushing her long, brown hair over her shoulder. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask that."

Sirius smirked, finding himself oddly bemused by the situation. "Spill, Skip, or I'm not budging."

She groaned and flopped her head onto the table, wavy brown locks spraying everywhere. It took her a moment to collect herself, but soon she had brought her head up to look, if not at him, at least over his left shoulder at the elderly couple sitting a few booths behind him. "There's a blonde girl sitting across the way who won't stop staring at you."

"Really?" Sirius asked, now definitely amused. He turned to look around at the other section to see if he could spot the bird in question.

It was the same girl he had noticed from before as she had entered with her family. Upon further inspection, he noticed that she was very attractive. If Sirius had been interested in finding someone to snog, she probably would have sufficed. The blonde, noticing his gaze, pursed her lips in a pleased way and winked at him.

"Sirius!" Eliza cried as she reached over the table and forced his face to look back in the other direction. Once he did, her hand stilled on his face before she brought it back to her lap hastily. "You shouldn't look over," she hissed at him, ignoring the red blush appearing on her face. "It'll only give that tart encouragement."

"Maybe that was my intention," he replied, earning a scoff in reply. "And how do you know she's a tart?" he asked.

Eliza flicked her hand casually as if to say she knew these things. "So, will you move?"

He pondered it for half a second. Frankly, he really did not want to be the object of the blonde's lusty objectifications, but he also did not feel as though he should be forced to move. "I'm actually quite fond of this spot."

She groaned loudly. "Work with me here, Sirius."

A rare smile appeared at his lips.

She brightened, effectively encouraged. "Of course, if you don't fancy the counter, you can always help me stock the shelves. I've only got that to do left before I go on break. Plus, it's not as though the weather's getting any better. Besides, there's all sorts of things in the stock room."

Sirius put down his empty mug. "You've convinced me. Lead the way, Skip."

Eliza popped up gleefully and marched off towards the back room.

Sirius followed her slowly, taking in the various, scattered pots and pans hidden behind the counter that had previously been hidden from his view.

"Ignore the clutter," Eliza advised. "Life of a diner," she added as she stepped over a rolling pin lying on the floor that Sirius would have probably tripped over if she hadn't pointed it out to him. "Ahh, here we are," she proclaimed as she opened a door.

Sirius looked to see a dark room. "Yeah," he commented dubiously.

Eliza chuckled and turned on the light, revealing about three rows of shelves in the cramped room. "This is where the magic happens," she proclaimed.

"Oh, yeah?" Sirius asked, smiling at a private joke.

"Obviously," she replied, inspecting the stacks of cans, bags of flour and sugar, and bushels of potatoes and onions. "Where would we be without creamed corn?" she teased as she threw a can of it in his direction.

Sirius caught it easily.

"Play sports?"

"No," he answered as he put the can back from where she had removed it. "But my best mate does; James is his name. I used to live with him and his parents for a bit last summer."

Eliza smiled. It was the first time he had voluntarily divulged information about himself without the slightest bit of coaxing.

They proceeded to go through the inventory and stock the crates of new items, Eliza giving him directions every so often about where things went and which boxes to move.

"All done," she announced happily about ten minutes later. "I should have put you to work days ago."

Sirius shrugged.

"C'mon, Mr. Taciturn, let's head outside."

"But it's raining."

"A little water's not going to kill ya, is it?" she teased. "Or are you just worried that you'll mess up your hair?"

Sirius moved over quickly before her reaching fingers could get anywhere near his head.

She chortled merrily.

Sirius followed her silently out of the room and back through the narrow corridor to the counter. He waited patiently as she washed her hands at the sink.

"Eliza, do you think you can take some of my tables?" Johnny asked as he brushed past her. "I'm dead on my feet."

"Sorry, brother, but I'm on break, and Sirius and I were just about-"

"Sirius?" Johnny repeated dispassionately as he searched the area until his eyes rested steadfastly on the boy in question.

"Right, Sirius," Eliza replied back matter-of-factly. "We were going to have a chat outside. Well, I'll probably be doing most of the chatting. He'll probably just end up standing there."

"Now, Eliza-"

"Shut it, Johnny."

"Eliza!"

"I mean it," she warned as she eyed her brother testily. She shrieked piercingly when Johnny reached over and mussed up her hair. "God, Johnny, just leave me alone! What is wrong with you?" She huffed as her brother raised his hands in surrender and backed up a few paces, though not quite leaving. "Bloody brothers," Eliza cursed.

Sirius's lips quivered into a wry smile, his eyes flashing.

Eliza's curiosity piqued immediately. "Do you have a brother? Or any siblings at all?"

Sirius sucked in the hollows of his cheeks as his eyes moved from the girl to Johnny. While he normally tried to avoid talking about his family at all costs, he was even less inclined to do so with Johnny there.

Obviously a bit put out by his silence but still expecting it nonetheless, Eliza sighed. She stole a glance over her left shoulder to see Johnny standing there with his hands folded obstinately across his chest before turning back to Sirius. "Nevermind, I reckon I should know better than to ask these things by now. Ready to go?" she asked in a much friendlier voice.

Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets and teetered uncomfortably under the speculation of both siblings. "I think I'm just going to go." He focused his eyes on the blender rather than the disappointed expression on Eliza's face and the smug one on Johnny's.

"But, Sirius!"

"See ya, Skip," he mumbled before throwing a few crumpled pounds onto the counter and leaving the diner.

"You bloody prat!" Eliza shrieked as she smacked her brother in the chest roughly with her fists. "I'm not helping you now. Serve them yourself!"

She untied her apron in agitation and threw it angrily onto the countertop before stalking out of the diner in a huff. The rain pelted down onto her dainty, burgundy red dress, but she didn't care. Eliza raised a hand to her eyes to help clear her vision and looked around for any sight of Sirius, but he was gone. Her shoulders drooped in disappointment, causing the thin straps of her dress to fall down her shoulders.

Eliza waited gloomily outside the diner, as if her presence and sheer will would make Sirius come back.

The only thing outside, however, was a large black dog. It approached her cautiously, and Eliza closed the gap between them as she leaned down to scratch the long fur behind his ear. The dog nuzzled its face into her hand wantonly.

"Aren't you just an ugly thing?"

The dog made an odd noise that sounded more like a laugh than a bark.

Despite herself, Eliza exhaled in laughter, as well.

"Are you a stray?" she asked.

He barked back before sniffing her legs.

Eliza giggled at the feeling of his wet nose. "I like you," she declared as she bent down onto her knees to pet his face again. Her fingers played with the black fur at the top of his head.

The dog licked her nose sloppily.

* * *

A/N:

Reviews are like frozen yogurt sundaes after a long week of freshman college classes and your professor kicking you out of Spanish class.

yours,

molly


	6. July 22nd, 1976

Chapter Six

July 22nd, 1976

His back aching from being in the same hunched over position for the last hour and a half, Sirius growled as the wrench he was holding slipped from his greasy hands, which had started to form angry calluses from his long days of work.

"Sodding hell!" he cursed as the long, rusty screws he was storing in his mouth brushed up against his lips painfully and cut jaggedly into his gums. He spit them out tenderly, wiping back the red, wet blood that had accumulated on the corner of his mouth. Sirius kicked the massive, broken bike in a blaze of anger.

While this provided a few seconds of righteous satisfaction, a moment later, his foot was throbbing as it sent a stinging sensation up the expanse of his right leg. "Fuck!"

"Well, you seem to be having a pleasant time," Eliza remarked brightly as she came into view from around the corner. She played with the fringe on her forehead before placing her hands daintily onto her hips.

"Fucking peachy with a side of keen," he spat murderously.

"What's the matter?"

"Damn bike's got water damage from the storm. Half these parts are useless now 'cause they rusted up from the exposure."

"A four day rainstorm will do that to metal," Eliza observed knowingly.

"So bloody stupid," he growled. "I should have covered it up with a tarp, or something," he fumed as he kicked the bike again.

"Okay, Sirius, stop," Eliza insisted as she walked over to him. "You're just going to break the bike even more or break your foot in the process, and I don't really fancy a trip to the hospital."

Hands braced along the seat of the bike and breath coming out in forced pants, Sirius considered her warning before heeding the advice.

"There," said Eliza happily. "Knew you'd see reason."

"Yeah," Sirius said with a bark of cool laughter. "Just me."

"C'mere, I brought you something to eat. You've been out here for hours since lunch without a break. You must be starving."

At the mention of food, Sirius realized just how hungry he was and took the sandwich held in her outstretched hand eagerly. He tore off a huge chunk of it with his teeth and then swallowed it immediately without bothering to chew it first. "Mmm, turkey," he commented through another colossal mouthful.

Eliza waited until his bites turned more manageable before she tried talking to him. "What's got your knickers in a twist, Trouble?" she asked.

"Trouble?" he asked, his right eyebrow rising mischievously as his lips formed the familiar word.

Eliza shrugged with a lighthearted smile. "If I have to have a nickname, so do you."

Sirius shook his head in amusement. "I like it," he said, repeating her own words back to her.

"Of course you do. I made it up, didn't I?"

He rolled his eyes and then sat down against the curb, resting his back against the tarnished pink wall of the building. He put his heavy head in his blood-dried hands and sighed as he fixed his gaze upon the taunting motorbike. "I'm so bloody stupid," he said finally.

"And why's that?"

He gestured pathetically to the broken bike. "I can't even fix a sodding motorbike," he grumbled. "Some wizard I make."

"You're a wizard, then?" she asked in amusement.

Sirius started uncomfortably but then relaxed when he saw that her lips were curled into a teasing smile. "Yeah."

"Brilliant, I've been needing someone to fix all my problems for me."

"Get in line, love."

Eliza paused before she hesitantly sat down beside Sirius on the curb. She carefully pulled her knees to her chest so that she was sitting as close to him as she could manage without actually touching him. She smelled strongly of chocolate.

Sirius noticed that she was wearing trousers for the first time since he had made her acquaintance. She had longer legs than he had thought; the blue denim clung nicely to them.

His eyes trailed upwards to see that she was wearing a canary yellow top with sleeves that rested on her biceps, revealing her slim shoulders.

Her eyes met his, and he quickly turned his gaze back to his boots. He wished that she didn't look so hopeful.

"Don't you own any other clothes?" she asked him with a laugh. "You wear the same thing every day – dark jeans and a white t-shirt. Is it one of those nonconformist things when you're trying to prove a point by not doing what everyone else does? Does the t-shirt mean you don't need to care what's on the outside? Or is the point really that there is no point at all?"

Sirius merely shrugged. He was not overly versed in muggle fashion and felt comfortable in what he was wearing. He could walk down the street without turning any heads or garnering too much attention. Besides, he only needed muggle clothing for the holidays.

"You probably don't even know how to work a laundry machine. I just can't picture you with fabric softener in hand. So, I reckon that's why you just parade around in the same, tired, old getup all the time. I'm not saying it doesn't work for you," Eliza amended quickly. "I suppose, ahh, well, just forget it."

Sirius nodded infinitesimally and leaned his head against the gritty building wall as a bit of evening breeze flittered with his overgrown hair. The air was pungent with the smell of grilled beef coming from the vents outside the kitchen.

"Sirius?" Eliza asked hesitantly.

"Mmm?"

"How'd you get here?"

"Bollocks for luck," he answered solemnly. "And fat chances."

Eliza brushed fringe out of her eyes. "Not in life, here – as in the diner," she explained. "I mean, the motorbike's here, and I never see you with a car. How do you get here? Certainly, you don't walk?"

Sirius didn't answer her. Truth be told, he had racked up quite a bill with the Knight Bus in getting back and forth. Thankfully, he now had quite a bit of galleons stored in his vault at Gringotts. Unfortunately, wizard gold was useless when all a bloke needed was a new muggle transmission for a motorbike.

"Okay, Trouble," she accepted after a few moments of silence. "You don't have to tell me."

Sirius pulled a box of cigarettes out of his back pocket, lit one, and took a long drag from it. "You want?" he asked.

"Okay." There was trepidation in her voice.

Nevertheless, Eliza put on a very brave face as she accepted the cigarette from Sirius and put it between her lips.

He leaned over and lit it for her, carefully making sure that he hid the brilliant blue flame from her view just as much as he avoided getting too close in contact with her exposed shoulders.

Sirius noticed for the first time that she had a sprinkling of freckles across her nose beneath those brown eyes and thick eyelashes of hers.

"Wow," she gasped in a breathy voice.

"First time?" he guessed with a bit of humor coloring his low voice.

"No," she chirped back unconvincingly. "I've done this loads of times."

"Sure you have, Skip," he indulged her.

Eliza sputtered but tried to pretend it was a cough. "So, I guess I won't be seeing you again till Monday," she said.

"Yep."

Eliza nodded as she inhaled her cigarette, wheezing a bit. She tapped her feet against the pavement rapidly.

"Aren't you going to ask me where it is that I go?"

Eliza shrugged. "You don't really seem to enjoy my pestering questions."

"True, but that hasn't deterred you before."

Eliza stayed silent, and Sirius cleared his throat to speak. "I go to my mate's house to have Sunday brunch with him and his parents."

Eliza sucked in her lip and seemed to be exerting a lot of self-control until she finally let a squeak of laughter through.

"Do I amuse you, Skip?"

"It's just funny to think about you sitting down to Sunday brunch."

He frowned darkly. He was sick of being called funny.

"Oh, budge up, Trouble," she teased as she playfully hit his knee with her own. "I think it's adorable."

"Bloody brilliant," he grumbled as he inhaled his cigarette again, expertly, as though to provide an example of how the act should be done. He liked being called adorable even less.

"Your mate, you mean James, erm, what was it? Porter?"

"Potter."

"Right! Him! So, you're really close then?"

Sirius exhaled slowly; he watched the smoke float in the air before it faded.

"I wish I had more of a chance to meet up with some of my mates over break. It's just that with the diner, I'm really needed. Mum and Dad can't handle it alone anymore, and Johnny's a fat lot of help. He's awful with the customers, see. Plus, he can't do math at all. I mean, I'm no great shakes with facts and figures myself, but at least I can do simple addition! Johnny flunked out of algebra. I'm already talking calculus! Anyway, Mum was actually talking about taking me on a bit of a trip as a bit of a girls' thing, but I'm not sure if it will pan out. Still, it'd be lovely to see some people before term starts. I hate going so long without talking to anyone. Though, of course, you're a rousing conversationalist."

Sirius puffed out a bit of smoke as he snickered very briefly.

Eliza beamed; her cigarette was already forgotten on the ground next to her.

"You know, I still have your leather jacket."

"And?" he pressed when she didn't say anything else.

"And nothing," Eliza said. "I'm not giving it back. I just thought you'd like to know."

The ends of his lips curled into a smirk as Sirius swiveled back to stare at the purple and orange sky as the sun disappeared underneath the horizon.

* * *

A/N:

thanks for reading! super busy, but i always have time for you guys!

yours,

molly


	7. July 25th, 1976

Chapter Seven

July 25th, 1976

"Sirius."

"Johnny."

"How are you this lovely afternoon?" Johnny asked in a bit of a mocking tone as he watched Sirius enter the diner.

"Perfect."

"Wonderful."

Johnny stared pointedly at Sirius. Both boys knew exactly what the other wanted, but neither of them wanted be the first to break the silence. There stood an uncompromising impasse, like that between a matchless runner and a great king of men.

Sirius, who was particularly adept at resisting the urge to speak, realized that one of them would have to speak soon, otherwise they would just squander away the afternoon glaring at the other.

Johnny had not quite the sense to come to that happy conclusion. He continued to preen at Sirius with his arms folded across his chest, like a bulldog guarding its owner's home. His eyes were resolute.

Sirius sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "How long have you been practicing that look?"

"What?"

"The confusion. I've seen it on you a lot."

Johnny's jaw visibly tightened.

"Don't worry, mate, we can't all be thinkers."

"What do you want?"

"Eliza here?" Sirius asked finally.

"She went out for a bit."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes," Johnny answered curtly. "You should probably come back tomorrow."

"Sirius!" a voice called as a teenage girl bounded toward the boys as she stuck a pencil behind her ear.

"Hey, Skip," Sirius greeted her as he cast an askance scowl in Johnny's direction.

Eliza beamed at him as she flattened out her hair quickly.

"Oi! Johnny! Get back here, son. We just got in a huge supply of meat, and I need help carrying it."

Johnny eyed Sirius threateningly before he treaded towards his father.

"Sirius, lend a hand, mate? We could use another bloke."

"Sure," he agreed immediately. "Be right there." Sirius glanced quickly at Eliza's disappointed smile and then went to go help her father.

"Elizabeth Anne Boyd! Get back to work! The loos are in a complete state! Get busy!" shouted Susan from across the diner.

"Lovely," Eliza muttered acidly. "Toilets."

Though Sirius's back probably would have given out if the boxes had weighed anymore and his muscles had reached a level beyond aching from such physical exertion, he felt oddly contented by the fact that he was helping out the Boyd family. He did not like being in people's debt and enjoyed being able to do the odd job every now and again to pay Susan and Martin back for their unyielding generosity. In fact, just yesterday Sirius had donned one of Boyd's aprons and helped serve tables during a particularly busy dinner rush. Eliza had laughed herself silly at the sight.

"Buck up there, Black," Johnny told him with a brusque laugh while eyeing Sirius roll back his shoulder blades. "You'd think you'd spent your whole life getting waited on by servants."

"Elves, actually," Sirius replied back cheekily.

"Yeah, brill, you nutter," Johnny scoffed as he opened up the refrigerator behind the counter and pulled out a bottle of Coca-Cola.

"Can I bum a bottle?" Sirius asked, his body feeling dehydrated from all the heavy lifting.

Johnny held one out for him, and Sirius twisted the cap open. He wondered at the fizzing beverage before taking a sip. "Urgh," he yelped. "What is this stuff?"

"You've never had a coke before?" Johnny asked with a snort. "Welcome to Planet Earth, mate."

"Cheers," Sirius toasted before downing another sip of the odd, bubbly dark liquid.

The cola was sloshing around uncomfortably in his stomach about an hour later when he was sitting in his normal booth. Sirius watched an elderly couple seated a few booths in front of him arguing about what to order.

"No, Henry, dear, your cholesterol!" the woman insisted.

"I don't give a damn about my cholesterol," Henry retorted. "C'mon, love, I haven't had a good shepherd's pie in ages."

"Fine, but don't come crawling to me when you're in the grave."

Sirius chuckled lightly as he watched the old man kiss his wife adoringly on the cheek.

"Something entertaining?"

He looked up to see Eliza looming over him.

"Old age," Sirius answered as he gestured vaguely to the couple, "and all its wonders."

Eliza smiled as she watched the pair and then sat down opposite Sirius, who had considerately moved his feet off the seat to make room for her. "I hope I'm still that in love when I get to be their age."

Sirius shrugged. He never envisioned himself married and wrinkled. He couldn't really picture himself living past forty. James would be the one with the grandkids all around him, not Sirius.

She placed a plate of sandwiches onto the table and then started eating ravenously.

"God, I'm hungry," she said through mouthfuls. "And I don't even care what you're thinking in your little teenage boy mind. Mock my unladylike manners, if you will. I am going to eat all of these myself."

"Can't I nip just one?" Sirius asked, his hunger growing as he watched her devour yet another massive bite.

"If you say 'please,'" Eliza insisted after swallowing hugely.

Sirius gave her a pointed look.

"Oh, fine, Trouble," she caved as she wiped a bit of mustard off the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "But just one."

Sirius took the sandwich and enthusiastically began to eat it. "Fhank thu, Smip."

Eliza chuckled lightly. "I'm going to miss that face," she lamented glumly.

"Huh?" Sirius asked as he licked a bit of mayonnaise off of his thumb.

"Mum's taking me to visit my aunt and uncle in Bath," she said. "We're going to be gone till the beginning of August."

"Oh."

"I wasn't sure at first if I really ought to go," Eliza said quickly. "It doesn't seem the best time for a little holiday. I mean, there's plenty to do here, and I've really seemed to have been keeping busier than usual this summer." Her eyes swept over him for a moment or two before she looked back down at the sandwich in her hands. "But Johnny told me I'm just being stupid. He says there's not anything here worth sticking around for. They'll always be excuses not to leave, right? Besides, I've got to get away for a bit. You get a little stir crazy spending all your days in here. Plus, there's loads to do in Bath!"

Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Only Eliza Boyd would find Bath a fun and interesting marvel of society.

"It should be loads of fun," the girl continued, as though reassuring herself of this statement. "And everything will be here when I get back, so it's not as though I'm missing out on anything. Everything will still be here, yeah…."

Sirius stared at his plate, and though his jaw was fixed in a gritty way, his gray eyes betrayed his true feelings.

"Aww, Sirius, you've got storm clouds," Eliza proclaimed sympathetically as she placed her hand on top of Sirius's and looked worriedly at him.

The boy's eyes widened minutely from the contact, but he made no other indication that she was touching him.

"I'll only be gone for about a week, and it'll give you plenty of time to work on your motorbike without any distractions. You said you're all done except for the transmission?"

Sirius nodded and removed his hand from her grasp.

Eliza fiddled with the bottom of her wavy hair with her newly freed hand. "It's weird," she said after a few moments of silence. "I really don't know that much about you, but I feel like I'm leaving behind one of my closest friends."

Sirius pondered her words. He supposed she was right, in a way. While she still didn't have half a clue about who he really was, he had grown quite accustomed to seeing her at almost a daily frequency. She had stopped being a prattling nuisance to him and was shaping up to be something else entirely: a person. She wasn't a Marauder, of course, but he could no longer consciously consider her to be a random bird.

She waited for Sirius to say something, but he was staring out the window with a grim expression on his face. Huffing in exasperation, Eliza started upturning her pockets. "Where is it? Nope, not that," she said as she stuffed her notepad back into its place. "Ahh, gotcha," she said as she retrieved a pen.

Without asking for permission, Eliza reached over the table grabbed Sirius's hand while ripping the cap off the pen with her teeth.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked in surprise as he struggled to take back his hand.

Eliza merely tightened her grip on his wrist. "Relax, you big tosser," she mocked him with delight sparkling in her eyes. "I'm just writing down my number."

"Number for what?" Sirius asked.

"Telephone, of course," she answered as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sirius nodded as though he, too, understood what he was evidently supposed to understand.

"There," Eliza declared happily as she gave him back his hand.

Sirius inspected the ten numbers sloppily sprawled across his palm in glittering ink.

"It's the number of my aunt and uncle's. Don't feel skittish about giving them a ring, though. I don't reckon anyone will get shirty with you. Besides, it'll be nice to hear from you while I'm away. You're much too lonely, Trouble. I'm half-convinced that friend Potter of yours is a figment of your imagination."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Bugger off, Skip."

"Fine, fine," announced Eliza brightly. "It is what I'm trying to do, after all. I know when I'm not wanted, and at that point, I just stick around for the giggles."

She laughed at the surly expression on the boy's face before sighing. "Well, seeing as you're just going to sit there, there's a woman who's been waiting for her tea to be refilled for nearly twenty minutes now.

"It's amazing that you make any tips at all."

"I happen to be very loveable, or hadn't you noticed?" she teased.

Sirius shook his head at her antics.

Eliza laughed chirpily as she pranced off towards the kitchen. "I'll be waiting for your call, Sirius!"

Sirius watched as she hopped away and then redirected his focus to the purple digits etched onto his hand with a resolution firmly fixed in his mind: he needed to find out what a telephone was.

* * *

A/N:

As always, thanks for reading.

Nine more chapters.

Please review.

yours,

molly


	8. July 30th, 1976

Chapter Eight

July 30th, 1976

Sirius shuffled awkwardly inside the small red telephone booth located a few blocks down the street from his flat. The confined space smelled vaguely of sour milk and wet laundry.

He had spent the better part of the afternoon as a dog, watching muggles talking on the foreign device hanging in front of him now, and he reckoned that he had observed enough to understand its function.

Nevertheless, he still felt uneasy about what he was about to do.

He reached out to pick up the black phone receiver off its hook but then retracted his hand and shoved it firmly into his pocket. Sirius looked over his shoulder at the empty street. Rain dripped lightly from the night sky. A nearby streetlamp flickered for half a second and illuminated the greenness of the leaves on the trees scattered along the pavement. Most people had already retired to their houses for a nightcap. He waited for an elderly woman to finish hobbling slowly down the street before he turned his attention back to the phone.

He knew he was being ridiculous. All he needed to do was pick up the phone and call; he had seen some painfully boring and slow people doing it all day long.

Still, there was a twist in his stomach - quite like the one he received when eating copious amounts of Fizzing Whizbees - that did not want to settle.

Sirius, his hands still shoved into his pockets, cracked his neck from side to side and then hopped up and down a bit inside the cramped, claustrophobic box, as though to psych himself up for an important match of Quidditch against James.

While doing so, he spotted a few teenagers roaming down the street and stopped immediately. Feeling utterly foolish, he reached for the handle of the telephone booth to exit without calling - as he had done previously the prior two nights. He hesitated and then looked up at the dull-looking black telephone.

"Stop being such a bloody tosser," he grumbled to himself darkly.

He braced the glass side of the box with one arm and then reached out to grab the phone with the other. He thought about what his dear Mum would say if she could see him now, and the knot in his stomach felt more manageable.

Gritting his teeth, Sirius picked up the receiver in one hand and then fished through his pockets to find a rather lackluster coin to put into the machine. It made a clinking sound as it entered and Sirius put in another six just to make sure it worked before he turned the great dial in the right direction to put in the numbers as he had observed the muggles doing. He was not sure if he was doing it correctly, but if the everyday muggle could do it, so could he.

Sirius hadn't needed to look at a slip of paper - the purple numbers had washed off his hand three days ago - for he had the ten digits memorized.

Once he had finished rotating the small plastic dial in accordance with the ten digits, Sirius scrunched up the receiver to his ear, the way he had examined, and listened intently. At first, there was no sound, and he felt like a complete and utter idiot.

"Ahh, fuck," he mumbled as anxiousness brewed in his belly.

He fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt uncomfortably, feeling more like an illiterate giant in the grossly undersized and stuffy telephone booth than ever. He knew that he should have taken up James's offer to take Muggle Studies with him.

He was about to put down the receiver and head home to his flat after another unsuccessful attempt when he heard the faint sound of a dial coming from the bottom of the receiver. Hastily, Sirius turned the receiver upside down - or rather, right side up - and put that end to his ear. The louder dialing tone sounded twice more before a woman's voice answered the phone with a rehearsed-sounding greeting.

Sirius managed to contain his surprise from being greeted by a bit of plastic and then cleared his throat. "Er, Eliza?" he choked out.

"No, this is Joyce Price."

"Oh," mumbled Sirius, feeling unspeakably stupid. He kicked the bottom of the booth with his boot in frustration at messing up such a seemingly simple task. "Fuck me," he cursed. No doubt he had mucked up using the large wheel when he had put the numbers in.

"Excuse me!"

Sirius winced. "No! I didn't – gah! Right then, I'll just-"

"Eliza is my niece," the woman's voice interrupted him in a clipped tone. "She's here. I'll get her for you."

He held his breath as he heard the woman call for Eliza distantly.

"Who should I say is calling?"

Sirius, however, was spared the task of responding as he heard the frantic female insistence of "I'm here! I'm here! I've got it! Thanks, Aunt Joyce! You can go, I've got it! No, really! It's okay! I've been expecting this! Yes, he's usually like that! Don't worry, I'm trying to fix him!" vaguely from the receiver. He waited silently as muffled noises filled his ear before finally….

"Sirius?"

Sirius felt a flood of relief prickle down his shoulders. His posture immediately softened, and he relaxed his grip on the phone at his ear. He let out the breath he had been holding for the last thirty seconds.

"Is that you, Sirius?" the voice asked again, this time in more concern.

"Um, hello," the boy answered gauchely.

"Oh!" she chirped happily. "You called."

Sirius shoved his free hand into the pocket of his trousers. "Well, you told me you wanted-"

"No! No! It's fine. I'm just surprised you actually did."

As Sirius propped his back up against the glass of the booth, his feelings were of a similar nature.

"So, you can hear me okay?" he asked dubiously as he glanced back at the long, coiled wire drooping from the receiver.

"Oh, yes, very clear. Why? Are you in an area with bad reception?"

Sirius did not know how to answer this, so he chose not to say anything at all.

Fortunately, Eliza seemed to have plenty to say. "Oh, Sirius!" she gushed. "I'm having a really lovely time. We went to see a film with my aunt and uncle - completely brilliant. It's so amazing how much they can do with cinema now. I mean, I've seen a few old-fashioned things on the telly before, but nothing ever like this. You'll have to go sometime."

Sirius continued to listen to her prattle on animatedly. Part of him was glad to hear her blithe voice again, but the other, the much larger part of him, felt as though this made it feel like she was farther away than ever - a place where all that existed was giddy laughter and brilliant smiles and biscuits of every flavor.

"So then yesterday, my mum, aunt, and I went shopping. Aunt Joyce – she's the one who first picked up the phone - needed to get a new vacuum because hers broke when she accidentally sucked up one of my cousins - Geoffrey, he's the one who's teething, you should see the bite I've got on my finger! - well, his action figure with it. He loves soldier toys. I don't understand it all. It must be a boy thing. Have you ever been shopping here? They have some quite charming stores in Bath. We were mostly window-shopping, but I still got a few things. We were walking past this jewelry store, and I saw the most beautiful necklace in the window - Oh! I just have to tell you this story. Okay, so today I met up with a few of my friends from school, right? Well, we're just walking along the street when suddenly Fanny falls flat on her, well, fanny! God, it was hysterical. See, she always wears the most ridiculous shoes. You'd never believe the heel sizes! Bennett and I keep telling her not to because she'll fall, and then she did, and we laughed, and it was really just the most-"

Eliza put a pause to her bright laughter to take a deep breath. As her chuckles diminished, she sighed into the phone.

"I'm babbling too much about me again, aren't I? Johnny says I'm a right pain for doing it so often. Says I'm a complete narcissist sometimes. I don't mean to, it's just that I seem to lack any form of tact."

Sirius privately agreed. Eliza speaking in person was one thing. Over the phone, however, it seemed that her prattling reached new bounds.

"Course, tact is just about people wanting you to shut up or tell them what they want to hear. Everyone's afraid of the truth. I like the truth. If I ever met it, I'd look it right in the face until it got scared and went away. Anyway, tell me about what you've been up to! How's Marty's doing? Are Dad and Johnny doing okay? Mum's spoken with them, but you can never trust them to say anything of significance. Have you made any progress on the motorbike?"

Sirius shifted his shoulders backwards into a more tense position. He had only gone to Marty's twice since Eliza left. The first occasion had been to help Mr. Boyd stock a rather large shipment of produce the day after Eliza and Susan left for Bath and the second had been a brief check on the condition of his bike yesterday - he had not even ventured inside the building.

While the loss of a warm meal was definitely missed - his own cooking skills were severely limited and the only thing he kept in his flat was a few bottles of firewhiskey and a box of moldy owl treats - he really had not had the desire to habit the diner as of late. Martin Boyd was too busy manning the kitchen all by himself to have time to go to the loo - let alone keep Sirius company. Johnny was, astonishingly, more sour than ever, seeing as he had to serve the entire diner without the help of his sister. Unlike Boyd, however, Johnny had still managed to find the spare second to glare contemptibly at Sirius whenever he had passed by his booth on his way to the counter.

So, Sirius had mainly been passing the slow hours alone in his flat. It was painfully dull. Sirius had never been one to stay cooped up; he became restless easily and despised feeling entrapped.

He'd gone over to the Potters twice in the past week but could only take so much of his friend's long-winded pining before he had no choice but to leave. James was not nearly half as fun anymore. He kept going on about being more responsible and respectful; James had even proposed cutting back on pranks, calling them a "foolhardy risk." Sirius would be much happier when James finally got Red out of his system and returned back to his normal self.

Sirius did not believe in love.

"You know, Sirius, it's much harder to put up with your annoying Mr. Taciturn routine when it's over the phone," Eliza scolded teasingly, effectively removing Sirius from his thoughts.

"Sorry," he mumbled roughly.

"Ahh, it's okay, Trouble," she assured him in a placating voice. "I get the feeling you don't do this sort of thing very often."

He smirked. "Not really," he allowed.

"Well, I'll just have to help you out. Let me guess, you're slouching and probably fiddling with the box of cigarettes in your pocket."

Sirius immediately removed his hand from his trouser pocket.

"And you've got your usual getup on, but it's more wrinkled than normal because I'm not there to inspire you to look fresh."

He rolled his eyes.

"And after you finish rolling your eyes, I'll point out that the vagabond look probably works for you anyway, Trouble, because you're ruddy irritating like that. Do make sure to shave before I get back."

Sirius laughed loudly against the receiver.

Eliza chuckled happily, pleased with herself for eliciting such a response from him. She had never heard him laugh without restraint before. It was quite an achievement.

"All right, yes! I'm coming! Tell him I'll be there in a minute!" she yelled distantly. "Sorry, Sirius," Eliza continued in a clearer voice. "I've got to go. My uncle's been waiting for me to put the finishing touches on my chocolate crème pie all day. He's got the patience of a fly, or worse, Johnny. One minute, Uncle Evan!"

Sirius fumbled with the phone against his ear and sank his slumped shoulders against the booth glass once more. "Okay, then," he murmured.

"I wouldn't, but he has been waiting for ages. Sorry!"

"S'fine."

"All right, well, I reckon I should go."

Sirius held the receiver intently to his ear without saying anything. The agitation in her voice concerned him, and he began to have second thoughts about whether he had made the right decision of calling her. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

Sirius's fingers clenched around the receiver.

"I'm glad you know," Eliza said, as though reading his mind. "That you called, I mean. Of course, I kind of instigated and enabled and all of those other awful words Johnny uses, but I'm still glad you called."

Sirius's posture relaxed.

"See you soon?"

Sirius nodded, but then realizing that she could not see him, answered affirmatively.

"So long, Trouble."

"Night, Skip."

He heard a clicking sound and then nothing more. Slowly, he put the receiver back into its place.

He stared at the phone for nearly ten more minutes in silence inside that small, red, cramped telephone booth.

* * *

A/N:

this is perhaps my favorite chapter.

to all of those beautiful people who review: thank you. you are a gentleman and a scholar.

to all those dastardly souls who refrain: a plague on all your houses.

yours,

molly


	9. August 4th, 1976

Chapter Nine

August 4, 1976

Sirius fiddled with the silver wrench in his hand and meticulously scoured his black motorbike for any loose divots before hunching down and tightening the same bolt he had unnecessarily fastened not two minutes prior.

Jutting his tongue out slightly in concentration, he stepped back and scrutinized the bike again as he paced around it in a circle.

Today was the first day in about a week that he had returned to Marty's. Eliza had not told him the exact day that she would be returning; she had only mentioned it being in the beginning of August.

Sirius had felt the need to wait a few extra days just to make sure she was really back. Still, he was not about to just rush into his normal booth with his tail wagging eagerly.

There was still loads to do left on his bike.

Inspecting the black monster intensely, Sirius's scratched his chin as he fruitlessly searched for something that he could adjust, something that he could tighten, something that he could polish, something that he could fix. He leaned down to tighten another bolt; it wouldn't budge.

"Oi, Sirius!" called Martin Boyd, who spotted Sirius from the adjacent side of the building. He was failing to remain upright while lugging three hefty black rubbish bags into waiting metal cans. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Been busy."

"Course," Boyd replied understandingly with a nod of his balding head. "Man's got to make a living. I worked two jobs when I was your age. Still couldn't afford a car, though. I had to work twice as hard to impress the ladies. No bird wants to date a bloke without a firm financial status. How's the bike doing? Did you try that new motor oil I gave you?"

Sirius nodded.

"Brilliant stuff," Boyd commented as his face contorted into a strenuous expression while he struggled to lift one of the seemingly very heavy rubbish bags into the can. "Quite a bargain too. Picked up a bunch o' bottles of it last spring in the hardware store on Churchill, so there's more if you need it-oh, thanks, Sirius."

Boyd's knees stopped shaking under the staggering weight of the bag as Sirius grabbed the bottom and helped to heave it into the can. Together they did the same with the next two bags.

After Boyd closed the lid on the third can, he clapped Sirius on the shoulder. "Thanks, chap." He rubbed his stomach over his red apron. "Feeling a bit peckish now, myself. I think I'll head inside a grill up some nice reubens. You interested?"

Sirius nodded and followed Boyd into the dingy diner, where he was immediately greeted by the too-loud hum of the air conditioning unit and the clanking of the bell above the door.

"Sit down, lad, and I'll go get those sandwiches cooking, eh?"

Sirius watched as Boyd strode off towards the kitchen and then looked around the diner. There was a group of giggling old women knitting as they sipped their tea near the back and two couples sitting in a booth a few paces away from them. An elderly man sat at the counter and ate his pot roast, his fingers shaking as they held the silverware.

"Oh, you're back," a voice sneered as Sirius walked over towards his usual booth.

"Johnny."

"I thought you'd gone for good," the tall boy said, not bothering to disguise his disappointment.

"Bike's still here."

"Yes, because it takes a full month to repair a bike."

To himself, Sirius cursed out muggles for their lack of efficiency.

"Wouldn't put it past you to be dragging it out. Probably yank a few wires on purpose every now and then so it looks like you're fixing something."

Sirius pursed his lips together.

"Or maybe you're just a crap mechanic. Probably just tinkering out there for show till you can come inside and brood. I'm sure it has nothing at all with the service here." His voice was littered with implications.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Sirius turned to face the window so that Johnny could not see the smirk that had sprung upon his face. "Don't really reckon I'd want you servicing me, mate," Sirius replied back as he turned to look at Johnny with a straight face. "Not really my type, see. Though, I don't find the news about you surprising."

Johnny's face turned a brilliant shade of red. He opened his mouth to mutter a retort, but words seemed to fail him. His father called his name, and the boy, cracking his knuckles, shuffled away.

Feeling very pleased with himself, Sirius smirked and lounged back in his booth, letting his legs rest on the seat opposite him. He laced his fingers together and rested them behind his head as he stretched out across both seats of the booth.

"You'd think he'd have the common sense to turn the grill on, but no! 'Why won't it cook, Susan? Did you touch it while I was taking out the trash? You know grilling's my strong suite.' Bloody berk of a husband," Susan grumbled to herself as she emerged from the kitchen and began stomping through the dining section. She gestured angrily with a soapy frying pan as she continued to mutter darkly. "I take one ruddy holiday, and he won't-Oh, hello, Sirius, pet!"

Sirius nodded at her, pretending as though he had not been watching her for the past minute and a half.

A strange sensation flooded through him. If Susan had returned, that meant Eliza must be around somewhere, as well. He surreptitiously looked around but could not see a trace of her. He knew she was nearby; the air smelled of chocolate.

Susan came closer to him, frowning at Sirius as her eyes ran over his lounging form. "What? You too now? I leave for a few days, and suddenly you think this is a den? Sit up straight, boy!"

Sirius removed his legs from the seat in front of him. His eyes were trained on the frying pan still poised in her stubby hands.

"Honestly!" she hissed waspishly. "The blokes in this place. You're all the same. Want somebody else to do everything for you. Never take any initiative to do anything for yourself once in a while."

Susan shook her head angrily before she looked down to see the still folded napkin sitting in front of Sirius.

"No one got you anything to eat?" she asked, as though highly affronted by that fact. Suddenly, her anger morphed into extremely hypocritical mollycoddling within a second. "What do you want? I'll whip you up whatever you'd like."

"Your husband's already making me-"

"Oh, of course! I tell you!" Susan shrieked before waving her frying pan in the air and plodding away.

Thoroughly flummoxed, Sirius watched her go ask the table of couples very kindly how they were enjoying their meals.

Quirking an eyebrow, he waited till she had disappeared before he swung his legs back up onto the seat. Keeping his eyes trained on the kitchen door, he sat quietly as he waited for someone to emerge.

Not five minutes later, Johnny had begrudgingly shoved a reuben in front of Sirius's nose.

"Dad said it's on the house," he mumbled.

"Well, I'll be sure to leave a tip," Sirius retorted coolly. "The service was truly excellent."

Johnny's brown eyes darkened, and Sirius had to cover his mouth with his hand.

"Bring me a glass of water, mate?"

Johnny glared and looked very much like he would love nothing better than to clock Sirius in the nose.

Sirius was delighted.

After an hour or so had passed, the sandwich and water were long gone, and the sun was beginning to set. This, however, had no effect on the temperature. The day itself had been rather blistering, and Sirius had hoped that the heat would have passed by now. Sirius's clammy shirt pressed uncomfortably against his back.

Thankfully, the diner was rather empty – even considering the diner's standards - so Susan had not come back out to see Sirius sprawled out across his booth.

Unfortunately, that meant that Eliza had not emerged either. Sirius was beginning to think that perhaps she had not come in to work at all.

When the sun had gone down completely, Sirius decided that he was going to return to his flat and use his two-way mirror to see if James wanted to come over. Perhaps they could go to a pub together and get trashed on firewhiskey. Suddenly, he heard the sound of the kitchen door opening.

Sirius turned his head, and there she was.

His feet fell off the booth, and he was left sitting with perfect posture.

Eliza, lost in her own world, was standing behind the counter and bobbing up and down to the music playing softly from the warbling radio that before had been playing unbeknownst to Sirius. Her back was turned to Sirius, but he knew incontrovertibly that it was her. Taking off her apron and setting it on the counter, she began to sing along to the tune, making up the words she didn't know.

She had a lovely voice. With her vivacious personality, Sirius would have expected a startling soprano, but her voice was lower and sultrier than he would have imagined.

Eliza sang along to the jazzy piece, closing her eyes every now and then when she hit a particularly powerful note.

Transfixed, Sirius stared at her as she collected the long, brown hair resting on her scanty cerulean blue top and pulled it into a high pony tail. He had never truly appreciated just how long her neck was.

Still dancing and humming softly, Eliza grabbed a dish towel and began to wipe down the counter. After a few moments, she looked up and stared directly into Sirius's eyes.

Eliza stopped swaying her hips immediately. She put the rag down and straightened up. "Sirius?"

He merely stared at her.

Eliza's face reddened, but her lips curled into a wide, toothy grin. "I haven't seen you in ages! Have you been here long? How come nobody told me you were here? Why didn't you just come find me?"

Sirius shrugged.

"Johnny," she guessed deftly with more than a hint of malice in her voice. "Just because he had the luck to come out of the womb three years before me, it makes him think he's smarter."

Sirius exhaled in amusement.

Eliza, beaming once more, started to rush towards the dining section but then retracted her steps. "Just give me a second! Stay right where you are!"

Sirius twiddled his thumbs in his lap as he kept his eyes focused on the kitchen door until she emerged, carrying two enormous bowls of ice cream.

"You like chocolate, don't you?" Eliza asked rhetorically as she shoved a bowl and spoon in front of Sirius and sat down opposite him.

Eliza took a large bite from her own bowl, licking the spoon as she did so. "Eat," she murmured through her fourth swallow. "You're making me feel like a pig."

Sirius hastened to pick up the spoon and comply. The coldness of the dessert was exactly what he needed. He grunted appreciatively.

Surprisingly, Eliza did not say much as they finished their ice cream, though, it was a mean feat that she managed to speak at all with the sheer size of the spoonfuls she was shoving into her mouth at an alarmingly quick rate. Once her bowl was clean, she dropped the spoon into it with a satisfied clink and looked up at Sirius.

Her fingers played with the gold chain fastened around her neck.

Sirius eyed her hands curiously.

Noticing his gaze, Eliza reached up and undid the clap to present the necklace to Sirius. "It's a locket," she told him as she placed it in his palm. "My aunt bought it for me while we were shopping. She spotted me eyeing it in the store." Her brown eyes searched Sirius anxiously as she waited for his approval or rejection. "It's a bit girly, I know," she fretted. "The heart-shape, and everything. Johnny says it doesn't suit me at all."

"He's wrong."

Then, surprising even himself, Sirius leaned over the table and fastened the necklace around her bared neck, his fingertips brushing against the soft skin he found there.

When he settled back into his teal vinyl seat, he found the nudge in the pit of his stomach very unsettling.

And he was fairly certain it wasn't due to the chocolate ice cream.

* * *

A/N:

think of something cool. pretend i said it.

i write for those who review.

yours,

molly


	10. August 9th, 1976

Chapter 10

August 9, 1976

Gingerly, Sirius lifted his leg and swung it across the vast motorbike so that he straddled the leather. He edged his way across the smooth, leather seat and hunched his back so that he was sitting at nearly a 30 degree angle. Slowly, as though to savor the moment, Sirius glided his reverent fingers up the silken neck of the bike until his fingertips brushed along the cylindrical metal and slowly slid up to the slick handlebars. He squeezed gently, caressingly, just once to get a feel for it.

The night air was still except for the sweet humming of the bike whirling underneath him. His eyes flittered close as he took a deep breath to try to calm the excitement brewing inside of him. Looking out again, Sirius tightened his grip on the handlebars and urged the bike forward.

He could feel the pulse. His heart drummed as his muscles throbbed.

Somewhere across the building, someone slammed a door shut.

Sirius jumped. Startled, his body flung backwards; his legs rose and buckled. His hands left the handlebars, and Sirius was forced to cling to the leather seat to make sure that he did not fall flat on his face onto the curb.

Half a second went by before Sirius was able to analyze his position. Correcting the pretzel of limbs he had created, he removed himself from his still immobile and unfixed motorbike and trampled to the safety of the curb.

Feeling extremely humiliated, Sirius quickly sent furtive looks over both his shoulders to make sure that no one had witnessed his little mishap. It was pathetic enough that he missed riding his motorbike so much that he was taking pretend joyrides, but jumping up like a girl was inexcusable.

He hurriedly scanned the empty parking lot as he shoved his hands deeply into his pockets, pulling out a packet of cigarettes. He tore out the closest available cigarette, lit it, and then inhaled. The smoke helped calm him down, though it did not make him feel any less the fool.

Sirius scuffed his boots along the curb as he leaned back, practically carelessly against the rough wall with his white t-shirt. Sirius stared out at the dark sky as he inhaled another puff of smoke from his blazing cigarette. The stars shone brighter here at this tiny pimple on the side of the highway than at the highly sought over neighborhood where his flat was located in London.

It had been a long time since Sirius had looked up at the stars for pure wonder's sake; studying Astronomy seemed to take all the mystery out of it.

If Sirius believed in anything, it was probably his own insignificance in the grand scheme of things.

Of course, if asked, he would say that the universe merely revolved around him.

He looked up at the sky and effortlessly picked out the Dog Star, shining mockingly bright overhead. Sirius rolled his eyes. Only the Black family would be self-important enough to name its descendents after stars.

The star could have already died. He just didn't know it because it took so long for the image to get back. Ruddy stars. He took another drag and then blew it out leisurely, watching the way the smoke blurred around the stars as it left his mouth.

"Howling at the moon, Trouble?"

"Really not," Sirius replied, sounding amused by the very idea.

"Well, no, I reckon you've got another night before it turns full," Eliza mused as she looked up at the sky. She was wearing Sirius's leather jacket, which she wrapped tightly around herself. Sirius realized for the first time all night that it was rather chilly; his arms had goosebumps. "What are you doing out here? I haven't seen you all day."

Sirius shrugged.

"You can't be thinking; you'd have been done in about twenty seconds."

Sirius turned to give her a scathing look.

"Yes, yes, I know. Right prodigy, you are. Get inside."

"Not hungry." It was a lie, of course. Sirius had spent the majority of his day in his flat, and he still had not made any improvements to the dining options available there.

"Did I say you had to eat? I just said to come inside."

"Eating seems to be a prerequisite with your family, Skip."

Eliza grinned. "You should see us at Christmas."

Sirius inhaled the cigarette again. The orange glow at the end was the only thing keeping the two from being immersed in the darkness of the parking lot, which was lit only by one unreliable streetlamp.

"C'mon, Sirius. It's pretty chilly for summer, and it's dark as anything. My shift will be over in about a half an hour. You can help me close up."

When Sirius didn't say anything, Eliza tiptoed along the curb so that she was standing directly in front of him. Smiling, she changed tactics. "Besides, Mum's not feeling too well so Dad and Johnny are taking her home and leaving me to hold the fort and then drive myself home."

Though he tried not to show it, Sirius definitely perked up at the mention of her brother's absence.

"Knew that'd get a response," she said, sounding thoroughly pleased with herself. Sirius rolled his eyes but nevertheless threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it with his boot.

"When are they leaving?"

"In about five minutes."

"I'll be inside in six."

Indeed, the night was dark, but Sirius could still easily see her pretty face sporting a wide beam.

Eliza turned around began her pas de bourrée towards the front entrance to the diner.

After Sirius had counted to sixty six times over and had made sure the old, whining Volkswagen that Boyd drove had puffed and jittered its way out of the parking lot, Sirius shuffled into the diner.

A piece of chocolate crème pie was waiting for him at his booth. Sirius rolled his eyes but unearthed the fork from his napkin anyway.

"Can't resist," Eliza teased as she strode by in her apron with a tray laden with empty dishes in her hands.

"It's good pie," Sirius murmured.

"It's the best pie," Eliza corrected him with a pivot turn as she flounced right back in the previous direction to hand a couple their check.

"There you are, Mr. and Mrs. Iverson," Sirius could hear her say brightly. "Anything else I can get you? No? Well, have a fantastic night. I hope everything works out with your son's new girlfriend. If all else fails, just tell him she looks like matrimony material, and he'll have chucked her faster than you can say 'buttercream.' Yes, yes, good night!"

Sirius shook his head in amusement and ate another forkful of pie.

By the time he had finished his slice, Eliza had shooed the last customer from the diner. He had been about twenty years old, and Sirius had noticed that the bloke had not looked like he had wanted to leave. Sirius was fairly certain that the bloke had even written down something onto Eliza's check because when she picked it up, she colored and started flattening her fringe.

Sirius probably should not have been so surprised that Eliza received this sort of attention. After all, she was a moderately attractive girl. Nevertheless, Sirius felt better when he spotted Eliza crumple the piece of paper and throw it in the rubbish bin, murmuring to herself and shaking her head.

"Not your type?" Sirius heard himself asking before he could stop himself.

Eliza shrugged cheerfully. "I'm not allowed to date customers. Diner policy and Johnny enforced."

Sirius sat back in his booth.

"Besides, he didn't want any dessert. What kind of bloke doesn't want to try my pie?"

"Completely undeserving berk. You were right to be rid of him."

"Thank you," she replied with an indignant nod of her head.

"Now, get up, Trouble! If I'm stuck closing up, you're at least going to help me. I'll wash. You dry." She threw a towel at Sirius, and he caught it before it hit the floor.

Sirius had never seen so many dirty dishes in his life. He had no idea how the Boyd family managed to create such a mess. There were pots and pans strewn along all the counters in the kitchen, intermixed with dirty cups, plates, and silverware from the customers.

"Not too bad," Eliza remarked optimistically. "Must have been an off night."

Sirius stared incredulously at her back as she skipped over to the sink and started scrubbing a large pot.

Largely due to Eliza's influence – "I've been washing dishes since I was able to climb on top of a step stool, Trouble. You should try it once in your life. For someone who is all independent and doesn't need anyone, you sure don't know how to do anything." – they were able to clean the kitchen in a relatively quick amount of time.

However, Eliza informed Sirius that they still had to clean up the counter, mop the floor, count the money in the cash register, and wipe down all the tables. "I just don't see how you can possibly do this every day," Sirius thought aloud as he guided the wet mop along the tiled floor.

"You get used to it," Eliza sang back serenely from behind the cash register where she kept her eyes focused on the bills she was totaling.

"It's easier when everyone else is here. Mum and Dad usually do the dishes, and Johnny does the floor."

"It seems like too much work to deal with all the time." "Well, how do you suggest we afford to live?" Eliza asked. "I don't really fancy homelessness. Cardboard boxes have never really agreed with me, yeah?"

Sirius pushed the mop down again in silence. He had a huge pile of gold just waiting for him underground. He'd never had a job. His own father hadn't even worked; he just invested into different things and occasionally visited the Ministry of Magic to ensure that certain favorable policies were passed.

"Well, this is no good," Eliza harrumphed. "What?" "I'm two pounds short. I've counted like six times now."

"Oh! That's me! I didn't pay for my pie." Eliza waved him away. "On the house," she insisted. "I think it was that bloke who gave me his number. Bloody prat – an up and coming lawyer, my bum! I knew he was trouble."

Sirius shifted uncomfortably with the mop in his hand.

"Oh!" Eliza breathed as she turned to look at him. "Not, like you, Sirius. I just meant, well-that he's the bad kind of trouble."

Sirius was sorely tempted to ask what kind of trouble he was, but he resisted.

After a brief argument, Sirius had given Eliza the two pounds she was short and then continued to mop the floor as she started wiping down tables.

It was a quarter past eleven by the time they both sank down into his booth.

Eliza leaned her face forward and ran her fingers from her face all the way through her hair. She had stripped off her yellow apron with the red trimming and replaced it with his black leather jacket.

It really did not make sense for them both to be sitting there when they could be both heading on their way home; yet, there they sat. Neither teen seemed to have the ability nor the desire to move.

"I'm exhausted." Sirius hummed back in agreement, though she looked like she was handling the extreme fatigue far better than he. His body was failing him pathetically – and, as a red-blooded teenage boy, he was supposed to be immune to such human indignities as the need to sleep. Yet, his current, strongest desire was to collapse onto the unmade bed waiting for him at his flat and fall asleep while still wearing his clothes. Unfortunately, his legs were so pleased to be sitting down that they would not let him get up.

"I think you're down for the count, Sergeant Trouble," Eliza remarked through her fingertips.

Sirius rolled his eyes and sank farther into the teal, vinyl seat.

Eliza looked up at the ticking clock located on the wall behind the counter. "I was supposed to be home five minutes ago," she mused dully. "Johnny'll probably call the police soon. The fire trucks will come next. I hope the sirens don't wake up Old Lady Jenkins down the street. She can get quite cross." Instead of seeming concerned by this, Eliza merely straightened out her fringe across her forehead. "Lovely." "Mmm." "One of these days I'm going to take a holiday someplace warm. Maybe I'll go to the Caribbean. I've always wanted to learn to dance the tango."

"Better off going to Spain for that."

"Oh. Well, they have beaches too. Besides, shorter commute."

"Exactly."

"So that's settled then. By the way, I solved world hunger and figured out the meaning of life when you were mopping the floor. I guess there's not much left to do here tonight." Slowly, Eliza lifted her head, which had been resting on the table, and straightened out her back. She looked at the door and then at Sirius, repeating the pattern several times.

Sirius watched her questioningly as she fiddled very anxiously with the gold locket hanging from her neck. He had never seen her so out of sorts before. It seemed that her nerves had reached a point beyond incessant babbling – something Sirius did not know was possible for her. Though, for the life of him, Sirius could not figure out what could possibly make her so uneasy. He simply sat stilly and watched Eliza, who was wearing a dazed expression as she stared at what appeared to be his forearms and continued to twiddle with her locket.

Finally, after about two minutes had passed, she seemed to make up her mind because, taking a deep breath, she looked up at him with a look of shaky determination etched onto her face. Suddenly, she braced the table with her hands and stood up.

Sirius stayed unflinchingly still as he waited for her to announce her departure.

Instead, however, he found himself quite astonished when Eliza slid into the booth next to him. Sirius straightened up immediately and backed away slightly.

"What are you – ?" He was silenced when Eliza placed a small hand onto his chest.

"Don't freak out. I have to do something very important, and it's essential that you just accept that and understand that it's inevitable. Because really, it's been completely overdue, and if I don't do something about it soon, I'm 87 percent certain that my internal organs will implode, and we already mopped the floor tonight. Plus, then I'd be dead, and that doesn't sound very fun. The police would come. They'd have to investigate. Johnny would kill you, so you'd be dead too. Then Johnny'd have to go to jail. Mum'll turn into a right mess. I can't do that to Dad. The whole ordeal just seems far too exhausting. So, yes, I'd be really grateful if you'd just go along with this."

"What?"

"Now would be a really great time for your famous Mr. Taciturn routine."

Sirius stayed frozen to the spot as he watched Eliza lean in so closely that he could see every tiny freckle on her nose. Her lips tasted like cherry chapstick.

After a moment, or two, or three, they broke apart.

Eliza opened her eyes with excruciating slowness, as though she were savoring the moment. "I knew you'd be trouble," she breathed to herself.

A second passed before she looked up at Sirius, anxiety evident on her face. "Was that okay? I didn't mean to – it's just that I feel like you're – well, we've seemed to really – God, you must think I'm a complete slag – sorry, I've overstepped – but you did want to kiss me, didn't you? – I mean – boys like that, don't they? – you 're not gay, are you? – Oh, God, of course you're not. I'm sorry. That was stupid. I'm stupid. I should just go – "

Sirius cradled the left side of her face with his hand. "Eliza, shut up."

Looking downwards and thoroughly distraught, Eliza sucked on her lips hesitantly before Sirius guided her sad face towards his and slowly kissed her until she smiled.

* * *

_A/N: give your dad a hug. _

_tell your mom you love her. _

_ask your siblings how their day went. _

_fall asleep in your own bed. _

_be happy. _

_"And so, when a person meets the half that is his very own, whatever his orientation, whether it's two young men or not, then something wonderful happens: the two are struck from their senses by love, by a sense of belonging to one another, and by desire and they don't want to be separated from one another, not even for a moment." _

_yours,_

_ molly _


	11. August 13th, 1976

Chapter Eleven

August 13th, 1976

Sirius had a good feeling as he emerged from the Knight Bus in the early afternoon. Of course, that could have had a great deal to do with escaping the bus – a little girl traveling with her parents had thrown up all over the armchair next to the one Sirius had been sitting in.

Yet, with the sun shining and the occasional car whizzing by him as he walked a small distance along the highway, Sirius could not help but to feel…happy.

He was not singing aloud with the sound of music, but there was a definite spring to his usual trudging step.

The entrance door to the diner swung open easily when Sirius pulled the handle upon completing his leisurely jaunt along the highway, and a millisecond later, the bell sitting above the doorway chimed merrily to alert everyone of his entrance. Rather than shy away from this fact, Sirius pursed his lips together into half of a smile and walked towards the counter.

A balding head popped up from the abyss hiding behind the countertop. "Oh! Hello, Sirius!"

"Afternoon, Boyd."

Martin Boyd wiped his hands, which were covered in what appeared to be either salt or sugar, onto his red apron and then pulled out a vast pot from underneath the counter. "Very good to see you. My, is it past two already? Just about to boil some potatoes," he said distractedly. "Susan's peeling them in the kitchen. Won't stop yakking until I find the right pot to put them in. No clue what her problem is today-well, besides the fact that it's a day that ends in the letter 'y,' yeah?"

Boyd chuckled feebly at his own joke.

"MARTIN! Where is that pot? You better not be fooling around with the coffee again! I told you that no one will want to drink it if you make it too strong!"

Boyd rolled his eyes as he gave Sirius a rather tired look. "Don't get married," he grumbled.

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Martin!"

Boyd sighed heavily and grabbed the voluminous pot. "Sit down," he urged Sirius. "I'll cook you up something to eat and have it brought out."

"Mart-"

"I'm coming woman! Would you give me a sodding second before you call out a search party?"

"Well, how long does it take to get a pot?" Sirius heard Susan say in that superior tone she often acquired when talking about things related to cooking.

"Have you seen the state of the shelves?"

"Well, if you would just listen to me when I say they need to be replaced by a storage unit!"

"And where are we going to get the money to do that?" came Martin's exasperated reply.

"Give me that pot or it'll be alimony, you wanker!"

"Now, really, dear!"

Snickering to himself, Sirius shook his head and then walked over to slouch down into his booth. He was surprised to see that it had a few crumbs on the table, which he easily brushed off. Someone must have eaten there before him in his absence.

Sirius took a few moments to get re-acclimated with the worn, vinyl material of the booth. It had been a few days since he had sat in his usual spot. He braced the table and then stretched out his back, allowing his feet to rest themselves upon the opposite seat.

The kitchen door opened, and Susan came blustering into the dining area. She used her free hand that was not laden down with a tray of delightful dishes to sweep back the wispy brown hair that was flying into her face. She passed by Sirius's booth without much thought before she paused and retraced her steps.

"Sirius!" she cooed. "How lovely to see you! I must admit, I had been getting a tad worried. For a tick, I even thought of finding you in the phonebook, but your motorbike was still here, so I knew you'd be back. And here you are!"

"I've only been gone for five days," Sirius replied slowly.

"Well, yes, of course, I know, pet. It's just that you'd been here pretty much every day up to that point, and it was rather odd not to see you sitting here. Eliza was in a right state. Silly girl."

"Where is she?" Sirius asked, craning his neck to peer around Susan to see the deserted counter.

Susan waved her free hand in the air. "In the kitchen, I suppose. She's been making loads of pies between yesterday and today. Business has been hectic."

"I'd noticed," replied Sirius, looking around at the various customers. There were about fifteen occupied tables. He had never seen the diner so full.

"Yes, well, with the summer ending, people are heading home from their holidays. We usually get a bunch of people going through London who stop here. Don't want to pay the city prices, see? They're better off coming here and getting a nice, home-cooked meal that doesn't cost them the whole of Buckingham Palace. Hopefully, if we have a few more days like today, I'll finally be able to afford one of those new lava lamps you see on the television these days. It'd be nice to attract the younger generation, yeah?"

Sirius shifted in his chair and looked away to avoid answering. He had no idea what a "lava lamp" was. Though, he highly doubted that molten rock would attract customers. _Why didn't muggles just have a simple _Lumos_ spell for lighting?_, he thought to himself.

Susan did not seem very perturbed by Sirius's silence because she was too engaged in removing a plate and glass of water from her rather full tray and placing both items in front of Sirius. "It's a new recipe," she told him as she looked at the sandwich. "Just got the idea for it this morning. You'll be the first to try it. It's chicken, cheese, and bacon. I decided on a whim to add a bit of chipotle sauce. You don't mind spicy food, do you?"

However, Susan did not wait for Sirius's reply because a little boy sitting at a nearby table had spilled his glass of chocolate milk and was now crying very loudly as his flustered parents attempted to sop up the mess with napkins.

"Be right there!" Susan called out to them as she hobbled over, the tray still in hand and her hair flapping around once more.

Sirius watched her long enough to see her pull a dishtowel out of her apron and start attacking the seeping milk before he turned his attention back to the sandwich waiting before him and took a large bite.

"Hot!" he gasped hoarsely as he reached for his glass of water and then promptly downed its contents. Sirius then grabbed his napkin and scrubbed his tongue with it. He sat in his booth, his shoulders heaving a bit, as he waited for the burning sensation occupying his mouth to diminish.

"Too spicy?" Susan questioned him as she strode by his booth with an empty tray, obviously oblivious to his latest actions.

"Perfect," he managed to croak out.

Her face broke out into a huge smile. "Ahh, wonderful. Wait till I tell Martin. Anything else I can get you, pet?"

"Water."

Susan took his empty cup from him with a smile and then disappeared into the kitchen. When she emerged again with a full glass, she was followed by someone with the same shade of brown hair.

The fire that had erupted in Sirius's mouth seemed to spread like molten rock. He had become a human lava lamp.

Grinning widely, Sirius stretched up in his booth so that he could be seen easily as he tried to make eye contact with Eliza.

The girl, however, stared very decidedly at the wall in front of her before she positioned herself firmly in front of the cash register.

"Eliza!" Sirius called out to her.

Besides slamming the cash drawer shut with a bit more force than really necessary, the girl made no sign that she had heard him.

Sirius did not call out to her again, but rather, resigned himself to just watching her with a very bemused expression.

Very briefly, he could have sworn he saw her eyes flick up to him, but her nose was stuffed back into the crisp bills she was counting so quickly that he could not be sure.

Sirius switched positions so that his back was resting against the wall so that he could watch her openly.

Susan broke his eye line when she came over and gave him his new glass of water. "There you are."

Sirius nodded his head in Eliza's direction and then quirked an eyebrow curiously.

"Hell if I know," Susan told him matter-of-factly. "I told you she was silly."

Sirius thanked Susan for the water and then continued to study the girl refusing very stubbornly – and seemingly with a great deal of difficulty – to look at him.

Chuckling lightly to himself, he picked up his forgotten sandwich, wiped off all traces of sauce from the bread, and then finished it off.

Eliza's eyes found him again before she pretended to be ruffling through her apron.

The song and danced continued for about three more hours. While it was insanely irritating, Sirius found himself extremely entertained by how poorly Eliza was dealing with her newfound resolve to avoid him. Her face was flushed in anger, and she would suddenly break out into random bouts of cursing, which had greatly frightened a poor, unsuspecting bloke about an hour ago. Sirius found that he could wait for her very patiently as long as she would continue to make it so enjoyable for him. It was all really rather charming.

At around six o'clock, Sirius decided that he had spent enough time sitting in a diner booth. His legs were rather stiff from disuse, and he very much desired to tinker a bit with his motorbike. The new parts for his bike would be arriving at the end of the week, and he could not put into words how badly he wanted to ride it again.

His mind made up, Sirius cracked his knuckles as he stretched out his arms in front of him and then emerged from his usual seat.

Johnny, who had been sneaking peaks at Sirius surreptitiously for the last half hour as he sorted out the disarray of pots and pans underneath the counter, got to his feet when he saw Sirius stand.

"You're leaving?" he asked, sounding not at all saddened by the thought.

Sirius shoved his fists into his trouser pockets and rocked on his heels. _He's not so big_, Sirius thought to himself as he sized up the tall, light-haired boy behind the counter,_ I could probably take him_.

Johnny seemed to be having similar thoughts. "Yeah, well, try to make the departure stick this time, eh?"

"Would you like that?" Sirius asked, a bit of a smirk forming on his face.

"Very much so."

"Mmm, and, of course, the single aim of my life is to please you."

The tips of Johnny's lips quivered as a low growl left his mouth. "Watch it, Black," he warned as he placed his hands imposingly onto the counter.

"I do. I watch a lot of things." Sirius eyes strayed over to the entrance to the kitchen, behind which Eliza had disappeared not five minutes ago. He knew he probably should not have been goading Johnny like this, but it was quite fun; he had been getting rather bored just sitting around.

"Oh, I'm sure you do."

"Your little sister, in particular." Sirius smirked widely as he leaned over the counter to hiss very quietly into Johnny's ear. "Though, of course, she provides much more than just a view."

This, apparently, was too much for Johnny because he slammed a pot very angrily against the countertop, which would have hit Sirius's hand, if he had not retracted it a split second before.

Sirius folded his arms across his chest as he snickered to himself in amusement at the purplish color of Johnny's face. He stopped laughing when the kitchen door opened, and Eliza, herself, appeared.

Immediately, Sirius straightened up. "Yes, well, lovely talking to you, mate," he said to Johnny as he patted him in the shoulder.

Johnny's fury seemed to go beyond words; he merely gaped at the spot where Sirius had touched him.

"But I'm afraid I must go," he continued, as though he did not see the flummoxed boy standing before him. Though, really, Sirius probably took very little notice of him; his eyes were focused on his sister as he spoke in a voice rather too loud for speaking to someone as close as Johnny was to him. "I'll be outside by the bike."

Sirius paused a moment before swiveling around and leaving the diner.

Warmth spread inside him when he saw the almost fixed motorbike gleaming in front of him. "Hey, baby," he greeted as he ran his fingertips over the seat.

Sirius only had to wait twenty minutes before he heard footsteps approaching. Fighting back a grin, he stuck his wrench back into his toolbox, wiped his hands off onto the back of his trousers, and straightened up.

Carrying what seemed to be a plate loaded with casserole, Eliza marched very purposefully towards him and slammed the plate onto the seat of the motorbike.

Sirius waited for her to say something, but when she did not, he merely picked up the plate and started eating the food.

Eliza, whose brown eyes were bulging from the need to speak, was jiggling her foot rapidly.

Sirius took care to make an audible sound of appreciation of the food he was eating. He chewed for a bit before setting the plate down on the curb and returning back to the motorbike.

This seemed to shatter Eliza's very feeble ability to remain silent. She let out an annoyed huff accompanied by a slight stamp of her foot. "I'm ignoring you." The moment the words left her lips, her body seemed to relax exponentially. She stopped rattling her fingers against her arms, but the determination in her eyes did not dwindle in the slightest.

"You are?"

"Yes!"

"How come?"

She made a "pfft" exclamation, and her fringe rose a few centimeters in the air. "Because I'm furious with you."

"You are?" This time it was spoken with even more delight than the first.

"Yes! Just because you don't find me attractive in that way doesn't mean you should just up and leave! A simple 'no thank you' would have sufficed! But, no! You just had to go off for five days without as much as a simple explanation! You should have just told me I had my signals crossed and left it at that."

"Skip"

"No. Don't interrupt me with adorable nicknames!" She seemed to be getting into the full swing of her rant now. Her brown hair was flying the way he had seen her mother's do so often. She stood on the opposite side of the motorbike, but leaned closer to him whenever she spoke a word with particular vehemence. "I don't understand you at all! First you seem all interested with the pathetic 'I'm wet, feed me routine,' and then you completely ignore me. But then we spent all that time together. I thought we formed a – well, it doesn't matter what you call it! I know it was something because we kissed! Granted, I kind of sprung it on you, but you definitely kissed me back!"

Sirius examined her face, ruddy from all the yelling, and swallowed his tongue as he let her continue.

"I mean, I know it's not as though we're 'together' all of a sudden," she said, exaggerating the word with a grand arm flop. "But it would have been nice if you wouldn't have just left. I mean, it's not as though I'm a horrible snog. Granted, there's only ever been Geoffrey Stevens when I was thirteen, but he seemed to have enjoyed it, dammit! Where do you come off, Sirius Black?"

Panting slightly, she finished her tirade and stared at Sirius expectantly, as though daring him to answer.

He shrugged. "Busy," came his reply.

Eliza scoffed in irritation. "What kind of ruddy answer is that? What could possibly have kept you so busy that you couldn't stop by or call for five whole days?"

"I was with friends," Sirius replied, choosing his words very deliberately.

It was true. He had spent the last few days with James, Remus, and Peter. Upon the full moon, they had all snuck into Remus's place to stay with him as he transformed. Without the benefit of enclosure that the Shrieking Shack offered, it had been a tad more difficult to keep a werewolf in check. Thus, he, Peter, and James had spent the next three days recuperating at James's house under the guise of a sleepover. Really, they were just biding time and drinking firewhiskey until their bruises began to fade and their cuts started to heal. Sirius still had a scratch along the back of his neck that had yet to close.

Then, too tired and hungover to do much else, Sirius had collapsed onto his bed in his flat and just slept.

Of course, no abrasion was poorly received. Sirius would have endured much worse in the service of a friend. Besides, it had all been quite fun.

"And that's all you're going to tell me?"

Sirius nodded. It was not his secret to tell.

"Well, that's ridiculous! I want an explanation, Mister! You can't just come running back into my life like this all the time. It's not fair! I'm a self-actualized young woman. I won't fall victim to your rebellious wiles and good looks. I want accountability, I want to know that you won't just disappear, I want – "

She did not have a chance to say what else she wanted, however, because Sirius had moved over from his side of the motorbike and was slowly walking towards her. "What are you doing?" she asked as she backed up, her back ultimately brushing up against the side of the building.

Sirius placed one hand in her long, brown hair. "Ignoring you."

Eliza tore her lips away from his. "So you didn't leave because I'm an awful snog?" she asked, still sounding a bit fretful.

He kissed her again.

Eliza slipped her hands around his neck. "I'm going to take that as a 'yes.'"

"You do that."

* * *

A/N: I would just like to point out that I do not mean to offend anyone with the smoking/drinking/etc. featured in this story. I don't support nor condone that sort of behavior. I'm just telling you that Sirius does it (he also falls through veils, just saying).

How are you?

yours,

molly


	12. August 17th, 1976

Chapter Twelve

August 17th, 1976

"Hand me that wrench, will you?"

"This one?"

"No, the one next to it – no, the one on the right. There! That one."

Eliza crawled over the curb a bit and placed a small, silver wrench into an outstretched hand sticking out from underneath a massive, shiny, black motorbike.

"Ugh, almost got it," Sirius groaned to himself.

"Just like you almost had it five minutes ago?"

"Skip," Sirius growled in a testy voice. "Don't make me get out from under here."

The threat, of course, was completely futile. Sirius was just as likely to cause bodily harm to her as he was to stop working on the bike before it got so dark that he couldn't see.

Undoubtedly, Eliza knew this because Sirius had spent the last two days – ever since the new parts had finally come in for the bike – crouched underneath the bloody thing.

It was not as though she was jealous; she and Sirius had been getting along together quite nicely ever since their little squabble.

"C'mon, baby, just – yes."

Okay, so she was a little jealous.

She waited another five minutes before waving the sad, white flag of surrender. "My break's over, Sirius," she announced, earning herself a muffled response back. "So I'm just going to head back inside and wait on some more tables."

"Okay."

"Maybe bake a pie."

"Sounds good."

"Maybe try to take over the world with an army of robot chickens."

"You do that."

Sirius wormed his head out underneath the bike just in time to catch Eliza storming away. He instantly realized that now that he was – for lack of a better word – snogging her rather regularly, he probably should pay her a tad more attention.

Only, Sirius had never been forced to make a conscious effort to establish a relationship with a girl before. At Hogwarts, everyone was trapped inside the school together. You simply could not go out on dates. Instead, everyone would just sneak off somewhere to snog. It was every teenage boy's dream.

Perhaps, Eliza expected Sirius to take her out somewhere. He would have to pay and open doors and do all those things he had been taught were "gentile and befit of a wizard of his station." It was what a boyfriend would do.

Sirius grimaced at the word. He was most assuredly not a boyfriend.

Shrugging with great difficulty in the tiny alcove between the bike and the curb, Sirius picked up his wrench again.

Only when the night sky had become so dark that Sirius could not even see his own hand a few centimeters in front of his face did he go into the diner.

Being so late, it was rather empty. Susan greeted him from where she was mopping the floor. Johnny gave him the usual glare of disapproval as he passed by with a tray of dirty dishes. Boyd was lurking somewhere in the background – most likely grilling sandwiches for the late night diners.

Eliza was counting money behind the cash register. She did not seem to notice Sirius's entrance – even with the bell ringing – because she seemed to be singing to herself.

Sirius took a moment to examine her. Her clothes were mostly hidden behind her worn apron with the red trimming; her hair was thrown haphazardly into a knot on the back of her head, a great deal of it falling out.

Sirius had grown enormously fond of her over quite a short period of time, for he did not trust easily. She had a certain quality about her that made him feel very peculiar. It was as though she inspired him to be the sort of bloke who wanted to contribute to society and establish roots. Looking at her just then, Sirius almost wanted to be the type of person who was a boyfriend.

Only, of course, he wasn't.

Though, his favorite thing about her was that she knew that already.

Sirius slowly crept towards the counter and maneuvered himself in between the bar stools. "Skip."

The girl jumped slightly in the air and dropped the bills she had been counting. "God, Trouble! I think my heart just bellyflopped onto the floor."

"Better tell Johnny to come mop it up, then."

"Oh, yes, clean up behind the counter," she muttered as she picked up the dropped bills. "Wonderful. I completely forgot what number I was on."

"Lovely. Then you can take a break and entertain me."

Eliza raised her eyes curiously at the playfulness in Sirius's tone. She stole a peek out the window. "Too dark for the bike, huh?" she asked knowingly.

Sirius chose not to encourage her by replying and decided rather to remain silent. Instead, he reached out and drew a circle along her forearm.

Eliza fixed her hair as she looked around the diner nervously. "We can't," she told him quietly. "We only took one car today. They'll be here all night."

They had not told the rest of the Boyd family about the recent progression between them. There had never been any verbal discussion of the decision; it just was.

Sirius was obviously displeased by the news. From the expression on Eliza's face, she clearly was not any happier about it.

"I could try," she said in a hushed voice, "but practically all my excuses are used up. There's only so many times I can go out to bring you a sandwich, take out the trash, or go out for air. Besides, I think they're starting to suspect something's up."

"Please. Starting to?"

Though the words were directed to the girl, Sirius's eyes were fixed on her brother, who was glaring just as gloweringly back.

"Ruddy Johnny," Eliza hissed angrily. "He's determined never to let me have the slightest bit of fun. Yelled at me this morning for leaving my bra on the stairs – as though it's a crime to go through puberty and have to do laundry."

Sirius sighed; that would have been something he would have liked to have witnessed. He turned to look back at Eliza.

"He hates you," she said rather matter-of-factly.

Sirius grinned, thoroughly gleeful at the thought.

"It's silly, but I know he's just looking out for me. Wish he'd just let me do things on my own."

Sirius nodded. "You know older brothers," he murmured. "Always think they know what's best."

"Is that how you treat your little brother?"

Sirius refrained from answering and sat down onto a bar stool.

"And you're not going to tell me that."

Sirius took a deep breath and then focused his eyes on the pies on display. "My brother is everything my parents could ever want from a son. He has the best manners, the shiniest shoes, and the sense of obnoxious superiority that seemed to be added to his bottle as a baby. I was the disappointment."

He shifted in his seat and didn't say anything more.

Finally, Eliza cracked a hesitant smile and said, "So your family was a bunch of talkers then, eh?"

Sirius exhaled through his nose while rolling his eyes.

Eliza focused her attention back to the cash register and started humming again. It was a slow, jazzy tune that she carried well with her cinnamon voice.

"You know," she said finally, breaking the melody, "I reckon your family's a bunch of idiots. If they could think you a disappointment, well, they must not be very bright."

Sirius resolutely stood up and leaned over the counter to kiss Eliza. When they broke apart, she was quite red in the face and flattened her hair furtively.

Very contentedly, he sat back down on the stool. He did not notice nor care that Johnny had paused in the middle of mopping and was now gaping wrathfully at him, that a young boy was pointing at him in awe, or that Susan had spilled a salt shaker over. He was looking only at Eliza.

It took her a few moments to calm down and get back to counting bills. She started the melody again, this time adding words to the music as she sang:

_My poor heart is sentimental, not made of wood;_

_I got it bad, and that ain't good._

_

* * *

_

_A/N: The italicized lyrics used in the chapter are from the song "I've Got It Bad (And That Ain't Good)."_

_Thanks for reading, as always. I hope you enjoyed this installment of the SkipTrouble romance (see what I did there?) Not to sound trite, but I do really love reviews._

_Also, for anyone attending Jon Stewart's Rally to Restore Sanity on Saturday, I will be there. Come say "hi!"_

_Happy Halloween!_

_Yours,_

_Molly_


	13. August 22nd, 1976

Chapter Thirteen

August 22nd, 1976

Sirius strode into the diner and was halfway to his normal booth by the time the bell finished ringing.

He did not sit down, for he was not of a mind to sip coffee leisurely this evening. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and slouched up against the side of the booth.

He had been waiting for about half a second by the time Susan, her wispy brown hair flying everywhere as usual, spotted him and hustled and bustled her way through tables and over to him.

"Sirius, love," she greeted him kindly as she patted him on the side of his face. "How's the bike? Getting work done still, dear?"

"You could say that."

"Wonderful!" she sang happily. "Oh, pet, it's about time your luck changed, isn't it?"

Sirius privately agreed with her.

"Been seeing you quite a bit lately, or rather, been seeing my daughter quite a bit less," she said with a flash of motherly knowledge blazing in her brown eyes.

Sirius shifted awkwardly beside the booth. He reached for a pack of cigarettes in his pocket that was no longer there.

"Not, of course, that I mind, dear. She's very free to choose who she wants to…..spend time with," Susan finished very tactfully. She reached up to pat the side of his cheek.

Sirius did not dare to breathe.

"But why aren't you sitting down? It's lovely out today. Just the right temperature, warm breeze, and the sun just barely setting. I could get you a nice, cool lemonade."

Sirius shook his head. "No, thanks," he murmured.

"Coffee? Tea? We just got a new machine that makes smoothies. How about I fix you up with a nice strawberry one? I hear all the kids love strawberry these days. Don't tell me you're not hungry."

"I'm good. Don't worry about me."

"Ahh," the stout woman sighed. "If only that was the case with mothers." Susan put her hand up against Sirius's face again and then started to walk toward the kitchen. "I'll just go tell Eliza you're here. She probably knows already, though. Silly girl won't stop staring out the window."

Sirius immediately felt a rush of gratitude towards her. He had not wanted to put those words into a verbal request; it would have been far too mortifying.

Unfortunately, when Eliza, wearing a familiar burgundy red dress, emerged, she was not alone.

Sirius attempted not to smirk when he saw the disapproving glare of her older brother, though he could not prevent himself from grinning up at him sweetly.

Eliza skipped up to Sirius and kissed him quickly in greeting before pulling away with a bit of a blush on her face. She flattened her fringe down quickly.

"I've got a surprise for you," he told her.

Eliza's eyes brightened as she beamed. "Really?"

"Can you sneak out?"

"I'll go check."

Sirius watched as she pranced back through the kitchen door. Johnny, though he kept his distance, had not moved his eyes away from Sirius. His jaw clenched as he subconsciously rolled up his sleeves to reveal more of the muscles in his arms.

Sirius waggled his fingers in the older boy's direction.

Johnny's adam's apple throbbed in his throat.

Sirius knew he should feel a bit of remorse for torturing the older boy so thoroughly, but he really could not bring himself to do so.

In a few minutes time, Eliza had reappeared and was slipping her arms into the sleeves of his leather jacket. "I've got the rest of the night off!" she announced with a large grin. "Mum said it's fine by her as long as I do the dishes tomorrow. Isn't life grand?"

Sirius smiled back; Johnny looked murderous.

Eliza ignored her brother and hopped towards Sirius.

The kitchen door opened a smidge, and Martin Boyd stuck his head out. His nose was covered in flour. "You be careful, little girl," he told his daughter.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good. Take care, Sirius."

Sirius nodded and then opened the door for Eliza, who was merrily skipping at his side.

Johnny's eyes were trained on his back, but he was perhaps too incited to say anything.

This, of course, was not a problem for the boy's sister. Eliza began firing questions about what the surprise could be before the door of the diner closed.

Sirius listened as her theories became wilder and more ridiculous.

"Really? I'm going to introduce you to the rest of my band mates? What does that even mean?"

"Well, surely you play some sort of instrument," Eliza insisted as she eyed his scaly boots. "You're just the type. It's the boots and the eyes. It's definitely the hair. Something about you inspires young, impressionable birds to throw their knickers on stage."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

"I'd say you play the the guitar. Yes, you definitely play the guitar. Maybe you toy with the harmonica a bit on the side, too. Once in a while you dabble with the piano, but it's only when you really want to impress the ladies."

Sirius inhaled through his nose, his thoughts slipping back to when he was seven and he sang the solo part of "God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs" in a concert he and his cousins were forced to put on. "You have too many thoughts."

"If that was supposed to be an insult, it didn't work. In fact, I'm quite proud of my ability to think. I wouldn't be one of those harpies waiting by the stage."

"No?" His lips curled into a smirk.

"Nope!"

"Huh."

"I'd be the singer, of course, so I wouldn't have to throw my knickers to get you to love me."

"Ahh."

"Yep!" she chirped happily as she flitted about him. "Oh, wait, is this an evasive distraction to get me stop asking you questions about the surprise?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Sirius!"

"Just wait," he told her.

"But I can't do that!" Eliza insisted as they turned the corner and walked towards the black motorbike. "I can't even keep birthday presents a secret. I tell everybody what I got them every year before it's time to open the presents. I'm just awful with secrets."

"I've noticed."

"So, why won't you tell me?" she pleaded as she flitted pleadingly in front of him with a child's desperation. "Please," she begged, her face forming a pout.

"Patience."

"Is a virtue that I don't have," Eliza insisted as she approached the motorbike. "Why are we over here, anyway? It's too late to do anymore work on your beloved. It'll be dark soon. You can't possibly have more tinkering to do tonight."

Sirius perked up at the obvious pettiness with which she addressed the bike. "Hop on," he told her.

"Hop where?" she asked. "So I can sit in a dark parking lot?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "No," he corrected her, "so that you can take a ride with me."

Eliza sucked in a breath. "You did it?"

Sirius beamed and walked over to the bike. Slowly, he caressed its shiny finish before he lovingly swung his leg over the seat and got into position. He looked at Eliza, who seemed to be rooted to the ground in awe, and raised an expecting eyebrow at her.

"Trouble," she breathed. After a few seconds, she came to her senses and eagerly bourréed over to him before swinging herself over the bike and placing her hands carefully at his sides.

"Ready?"

"Please."

Sirius did not require any more encouragement. He swiftly turned the key in the ignition and gripped the handlebars in anticipation as the newly working motorbike roared to life underneath him. He revved the engine just for a bit, enjoying the way it sounded and how wonderful it felt to feel the machine whirling properly, before letting the gas go.

Though Eliza shrieked and tightened her hold onto him, Sirius found it to be superbly freeing. He began to laugh and zoomed out of the tiny parking lot and onto the free expanse of highway.

Eventually, Eliza seemed to relax, or at least her grip did, and she began to laugh with him.

Sirius ignored many traffic rules and began to swerve through empty traffic lanes and suddenly change direction just to feel the jerk at his navel from being pulled in a new direction. However, after a fashion, he wanted to do something more. He was tired of adhering to other people's rules and being a good boy. He wanted to do something reckless. He wanted to have fun.

"Eliza," he said loudly over the purring of the motor. "If I told you to close your eyes and keep them closed, would you do it?"

"Why would I-"

"Would you?"

"Yes."

"Okay, close them."

Sirius whipped his head around quickly to ensure that she really did have them closed before he tried out the extra clutch he had gone to get repaired that morning. Surely enough, the bike began to hover a bit into the air. Elated, Sirius revved the engine and then spurted the bike into the sky.

Eliza screamed loudly, and her hands were once again tethered around Sirius, as though he were a lone log plummeting down a waterfall.

"Eyes closed?" he yelled with a bark of laughter.

"What the bloody hell is going on?"

Sirius smiled and leveled the bike out to soar over the still pink sky and between the clouds.

He flew the bike to his heart's content. The sky seemed limitless, a never-ending expanse of opportunity.

The wind picked up his hair and tugged at the neckline of his t-shirt. His arms covered in goosebumps. The night air smelled like crisp freedom. It filled his lungs completely; any breathing he had done before paled in comparison.

He revved the engine again.

Eventually, the night grew darker, and he slowly brought the bike down to earth, as to not alert Eliza to the fact that they had just descended a great distance.

"Open your eyes," he told her when they hit solid pavement in the midst of a familiar stretch of highway not too far from the diner.

"How fast were you going?" she asked, sounding both thrilled and petrified. "I didn't even know motorbikes could do that. I felt like we were flying."

Sirius smirked. "Just don't tell anyone."

"Right, Trouble," she agreed with a chuckle. "Hey! Turn left!"

Sirius did as she said and then complied to all of her other commands.

In about four minutes, Eliza told him to slow down. "Okay, stop right here."

Sirius braked, and Eliza popped off the bike. She twirled around in a little circle in the middle of the street. Her hair was wild from the ride, and her face was flushed pink with excitement. "God, that was amazing! What a rush! Did you feel that? It was like the biggest high!"

Sirius grinned. "I know," he agreed enthusiastically. His body was still buzzing, as though his blood had electrified itself from within. It was almost as though he could feel the adrenaline pumping inside each individual vein.

Eliza laughed and continued to skip around. "I feel like I could do anything right now. It's wonderful! I could sing!"

Sirius hopped off the bike and moved closer to her in a subtle attempt to get her to lower her voice to less of a bellow. "Please don't."

"Sirius! I happen to sing very well."

"Okay," he lied obviously before rolling his eyes dramatically.

Eliza giggled loudly as she pounced onto his chest and hit him lightly. Her face was still pink with excitement.

"Where are we, Skip?"

"My house!"

Sirius looked up at the tiny yellow house in front of them. It was sandwiched between two much bigger houses, but it looked much cheerier than both of the others. The front porch was paved by pink and yellow rosebushes, blooming everywhere, and the steps leading up to the door were covered in chalk drawings and games. The blue window panes were open and inviting, as was the "Welcome" plaque hanging on the red door.

Sirius shoved his hands in his pockets.

Eliza stopped dancing in favor of playing with her hair. "Do you – I mean, can you – er, would you like to go inside?"

Sirius looked at her to try to decipher her meaning.

Eliza's blush had doubled in color, but she stared back at him with unyielding steadfastness in her brown eyes. The message was clear.

"Okay."

Sirius locked his bike up and then followed her into the house. They didn't say anything as they passed the warm rooms and inviting furniture. There were gerber daisies in a vase resting on the kitchen table and colorful magnet letters spelling out "YUMMY" on the refrigerator. The entire house smelled like traces of chocolate crème pie.

He followed Eliza up the stairs, glancing at pictures of her and her brother as he went. There was a delightful one of her as a young girl. She was missing her front teeth and had her hair arranged in pigtails at the top of her head. The young Eliza bore the same innocence that she did now.

When they reached the second level, Eliza navigated through the thin corridor before pushing open a door and walking inside.

The walls were a very light shade of pink. There were pictures hanging all around and canary yellow curtains hanging from a window, which overlooked the front of the house. A desk contained a huge assortment of records and music books. There was a very small organ shoved up against a closet.

The largest thing in the cozy room was a small bed. Its quilt was hidden behind a collection of stuffed teddy bears.

"My room," Eliza announced unnecessarily.

Sirius nodded to show that he had heard her. A lump formed in his throat. Seeing her room like this suddenly weighed upon him greatly. It made Eliza seem that much more solid in his mind, as though he had never truly seen her before.

He began to wonder if he should really be allowed in such a space.

He walked over to her dresser and ran a finger along a picture of her and her family. She looked around ten in the photograph. Johnny's arm was wrapped around her shoulder, and Susan and Martin, who still had a few wisps of dark hair, stood behind them in front of the diner.

Eliza looked nervously around the room. Anxiety was splayed across her face. "I haven't redecorated since I was five," she told him worriedly.

Sirius sniffed; the tension temporarily lessened. If he could ease her, he wouldn't need to worry about soothing himself.

Sirius moved over to the tiny organ and plunked his fingers against some of the white and blank keys.

Eliza laughed and shook her head. "I guess I was wrong about the band then, eh?"

Sirius arched his eyebrow mischievously before a beautiful, yet simple, melody dripped from his fingertips.

Eliza sighed in contentment and closed her eyes. She took off his leather jacket, and her skin became visible once more.

The notes suddenly faltered.

She fiddled with her gold locket before taking a deep breath and walking over to Sirius, who was now standing. Very carefully, she reached up and kissed him.

Sirius closed his eyes and kissed her back.

Hesitantly, Eliza's fingers began to pull on his white t-shirt.

Sirius grasped her hand lightly, but she murmured in protest.

"Shh," she whispered.

Sirius moved back a few centimeters and allowed her to remove it.

Eliza ran her fingers over his bare chest.

Sirius turned slightly as he backed away, and Eliza saw a hint of black on his shoulder blade. She circled around him and examined the black paw print inked blow his left shoulder. Tenderly, she placed her own small hand on top of the paw.

Sirius shivered slightly. He turned around and pulled Eliza in for another kiss. His fingertips slipped the straps of her dress down her delicate shoulders and left a feather-light kiss on the base of her neck.

The frail girl pulled back slightly with a shiver.

Sirius immediately took a step back.

"No!" she hissed. "I'm sorry. I just got nervous all of a sudden. I mean, I want to….with you. I really do. It's just well…what if I'm not any good? Here I am with no experience at all in my pink room like a five year-old baby. I just don't want to be bad. I've never done this before," she whispered. "Have you?"

Sirius did not answer. Instead, he lowered his mouth to hers again. Carefully, hesitantly, chastely, he allowed his fingertips to pull down the straps to her dress.

Slowly and tenderly, more layers of clothing were removed. The stuffed animals were cleared, and they moved over to the bed.

Sweetly, they moved together as one, the air filled with only the sounds of their breathing and once the whispered sounds of their names aloud.

When it was over, Sirius kissed her closed eyelids before resting beside her in the too-small bed.

Eliza tenderly traced circles with her fingertips along his jaw.

They lay quietly together for a few more minutes before Eliza glanced at her shining clock and saw how late it had become.

"They'll be getting home soon," she whispered to him. "Diner closed a minute ago, and your bike's still outside. I don't want you to – "

Sirius nodded and slowly extracted his arms from around her. Though he did not want to leave her warm presence, he was slightly grateful for the excuse to get up and put his clothes back on. It meant that he did not have to make the awkward decision to leave or stay the night on his own.

Eliza wrapped a thin sheet around herself and leaned on her tiptoes to kiss Sirius.

The boy looked down at her and ran a hand through her long hair. "I – " Words failed.

He kissed her goodbye and then slowly slid out the window.

The girl walked over to her window and peered out.

She watched as he started up the motorbike and rode away.

Not five minutes later, a familiar black stray dog sat where the motorbike had been parked and stared up at the house for the rest of the night, its eyes focused upon a gentle window with yellow curtains.

* * *

_A/N:_

_yours,_

_molly_


	14. August 27th, 1976

Chapter Fourteen

August 27th, 1976

"You're doing that all wrong."

"Well, how the bloody hell am I supposed to do it?"

"You're supposed to use your wrist, not your elbow."

"I'm not using my elbow."

"You won't get the right consistency if you don't stop that."

"I'm not using my sodding elbow!"

"Sirius, you are, without a doubt, trying to whip that chocolate crème with your elbow."

Sirius sighed and dropped the metal bowl of crème onto the kitchen counter with a clink. _This is work for house-elves_, he thought to himself.

Eliza put down her flour-covered rolling pin and bit back a laugh as she looked over at the hopeless boy. "Still want to help me in the kitchen, Trouble?"

He glared at her in annoyance.

Eliza held up her dough-lined hands in surrender. "Not that I'm not grateful for the help. It's just that I thought you'd make it past three minutes."

Sirius shoved his hands into his trousers and leaned against the sink as Eliza walked across the small, enclosed kitchen to grab a large bag of chocolate chips.

She tore it open with her teeth, ignoring Sirius's remark of "unsanitary!", and put her nose over the bag to sniff the chocolate. "Oi!" Eliza slapped away the hand of Martin Boyd, but not before he had stolen a few chips and popped them into his mouth. "Daddy!" she shrieked in outrage.

"Mmph?" he mumbled back before swallowing.

"Daddy! You can't just stick your hand in there and eat my chips. I need those for the pie!" Eliza scolded as she planted her hands on her hips and glared at him in her canary yellow apron with red trimming.

"My hands were clean," Boyd offered with a sheepish smile while running one of those hands through what was left of his hair. "Just washed them after I went to the loo."

"Daddy!"

Sirius chuckled to himself as he watched Eliza shoo her father toward the grill with a dishtowel.

"Now, love, I was just sampling them to make sure they were acceptable for consumption." Boyd grinned and then stole a few more chips from the bag held in her fist.

"Daddy."

"Eliza," proclaimed Susan Boyd, as she bustled into the kitchen and saw her daughter smacking her father repeatedly so that he would stop trying to steal the chocolate. "Why are you hitting your father?"

"He's eating the chocolate I need for my pie."

Susan nodded and walked over to the counter by Sirius to grab fresh glasses from the cupboard. "Oh, all right, then." She smiled when she saw Sirius. "Been here long, pet?"

Sirius shrugged.

"Make sure they don't make too big of a mess. I don't fancy spending my evening cleaning after them."

Sirius nodded and watched her hurry out of the kitchen and out into the dining area while she yelled out the name of her son.

A few moments later, Eliza bounded back towards Sirius with the bag of chocolate chips cradled at her chest.

Sirius looked over her head to see Boyd whistling as he started flipping a bit of meat on top of the grill before he nodded at the bounty in Eliza's hands. "What's that for?"

"You'll see."

Watching Eliza bake was a very singular experience. Though Sirius had learned more about her in the past few days and two additional trips to her tiny bedroom, he realized that each moment was a chance to discover more about her.

He enjoyed watching the way she carefully stirred the bubbling chocolate over the stove, the way her hips swayed to a song it seemed only she could hear, the way her cheeks flushed, the way she pulled her hair up and off her neck once the small, cramped kitchen grew too hot, the way she added a bit more sugar to the recipe than it needed because "everyone needs a little extra sweetness," and the way she blew a kiss at the pie once she had poured the chocolate crème into the pie crust when she thought Sirius wasn't looking.

Apart from his best friends, Sirius had never met someone whom he enjoyed being around more and more as time went on.

_Splat_.

Sirius blinked in surprise as he felt the cold whipped cream upon his nose. "What?"

Eliza laughed joyfully, and Sirius appraised her indignantly.

"What?" she countered. "You were looking far too serious, Sirius."

He rolled his eyes.

Eliza grinned wider and then stood on her tiptoes to lick the cream off.

Sirius stiffened immediately. "Your dad!" he hissed in a low voice.

Eliza laughed. "He left about two minutes ago to help Mum."

Sirius looked over his shoulder and saw the unattended grill.

"You were too busy having an intense inner monologue to notice," she teased. "_Oh, my, how am I going to brood today? What words should I choose not to use_?"

His expression turned sour.

She giggled. "See, not so much fun when I know all your idiosyncrasies. Can't be alone in that head by yourself. You're stuck with me."

"In a kitchen by ourselves."

"Well, would you look at that," Eliza remarked coquettishly.

Sirius glanced down to see that she was pulling the locket that hung around her neck. He placed his hand over hers. "Convenient, eh?" he said quietly.

"Nah, I had to bribe them all to – "

She did not have a chance to finish because Sirius was suddenly kissing her. Eliza sighed against his lips. "Can you come over tonight? They'll be home, but you can sneak in. You're good at that, Trouble."

Sirius had borrowed James's invisibility cloak last week. It had been a rather tedious negotiation. Sirius would have to endure James's lovesick rants over Evans and provide him help to win her heart over the course of the upcoming school year. Sirius hated lovesick rants, but he despised losing his friend to a bint even more. Still, it had been worth it.

Sirius pulled himself away from her to mutter one word, "Can't," before resuming his previous activities.

"Why not?"

Sirius ran his fingers through her long, brown hair. "I've got a thing."

Eliza extracted herself from his embrace, despite Sirius's silent protests. "Thing?" she asked pointedly as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Realizing that she would not desist until he had told her something a bit more concrete, Sirius added, "Meeting friends."

"Your imaginary ones?"

The corners of Sirius's lips curled into a smirk as he placed his hands on the sides of Eliza's face and pulled her in for another kiss. "Right comedian, you are."

Eliza seemed to think that they had for once talked enough for the time being because she allowed the kissing to continue until Sirius had backed her up against the counter.

"Oi! Liza Lou! What's taking so long on that pie?"

As soon as they heard the voice of Johnny, the couple immediately broke apart and darted to opposite sides of the small kitchen.

The door swung closed, and Johnny stared at the scene displayed in front of him with an incredulous, yet victoriously and fanatically furious, shrewd expression on his face. "What are you two doing back here?" His eyes trailed over the red face of his little sister and then landed on Sirius's form menacingly.

"Nothing!" chirped Eliza quickly.

"Really," Johnny drawled, sounding as though he did not believe her at all. "Absolutely nothing? You failed to exist?" His eyes were on Sirius again, but the subject refused to meet his gaze.

Instead, Sirius examined the coffee pot to his right. _Bloody brilliant contraptions they make, muggles_, he thought to himself.

"Yes."

Rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down shirt, Johnny made no inclination that he had heard his sister. He only had eyes for Sirius.

"Johnny!" Eliza warned.

"Shut up, Eliza!"

Sirius could no longer stay silent. "Don't talk to her like that!"

"She's my baby sister. I can talk to her any way I damn well please! Especially if she's consorting with the likes of you."

"It's none of your bus – " Eliza began to say, but neither boy heard her.

"Show her some respect."

"Oh, like you do? Groping her in a dirty kitchen?" Johnny laughed humorlessly at the way Sirius's eyes flashed. "Please," he added patronizingly, "it doesn't take a genius to figure this out."

"Well, obviously," Sirius spat mockingly.

"Leave my sister alone."

"Why don't you let her decide what she wants."

Both boys were entreating closer together, practically as close as Sirius and Eliza had just been. Johnny still had a height advantage, but he almost lost his nerve when he saw the dark look in Sirius's eyes. Johnny sucked in a breath and folded his arms across his chest. When he spoke, his voice was a whispered hush that was worse than if he would have shouted.

"What's going to happen when you leave? Who's going to be left to pick up the pieces? Who's going to have to watch her cry? Hmm?"

Sirius's threatening posture diminished slightly. For the briefest of moments, he felt like a very small child.

"Johnny! Come out here! A woman just dropped her dentures down the toilet!"

Johnny glared at Sirius for a moment before he left the kitchen wordlessly.

After a fashion, Eliza cleared her throat. "Well, look like we've made good progress on the pie," she announced in a cheery voice that almost sounded sincere except for when it cracked.

"Skip," Sirius murmured.

She shook her head. "He's just my stupid brother who thinks he knows everything. When we were younger, he told me that if you held your breath long enough underwater, you'd grow gills and become a mermaid. Bloody liar, that one."

Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets.

"I really wanted to be a mermaid."

Sirius thought about green, slimy scales tarnishing her figure and privately decided he was happier this way.

Eliza smiled shakily and walked back over to her pie.

"You know, making a pie is very simple. It's a crust, a filling, and a topping. The chocolate crème pie is special, though, because I always intermix my crème filling with the chocolate fudge sauce. I think it gives it more of a marble-like quality that helps the flavor. It prevents the crème from being too rich, see? Not that, of course, chocolate fudge sauce is the healthiest of options. Though, the texture really is lovely. You need that darkness to balance out the light, and you need the crust to keep it all grounded. For, without the crust, everything would be completely amuck. There'd be chocolate crème all over the floor. That's why I always recommend a good, sturdy crust. I think some people might say that some crusts are less reliable than others, but I know a good one when I see it. See, I've been around pies for a while, and I've been able to pick the good lot out from the bad. I don't need anyone else trying to sway me because I always just know. I've never been wrong, see? That's why I'm in charge of the pies," she said as she finished sprinkling chocolate curls over the whipped cream topping. "I've never showed anyone how I make them before. I try to keep the recipe a secret. There's loads of untrustworthy people out there."

Sirius walked over to Eliza and placed a small kiss onto her forehead. "Thank you."

Eliza smiled. "Your turn."

"What would you like?'

"Tell me about your friends," she requested.

Sirius stiffened slightly.

"Please," she added. "I just want to know what they're like."

Sirius nodded and then opened his mouth to tell her about his three best friends.

Eliza listened to his blunt depictions and watched as his whole face smiled as he described some of their silly high jinks.

Sirius told her as much as he could without giving away any magical secrets. He told her about James's obsession with a ginger, Remus's guilty pleasure for mischief, and Peter's willingness to do just about anything.

"So you're three wonderful, yet altogether less attractive, clever, and interesting friends, get into all sorts of trouble with you?"

Sirius nodded. "Exactly right."

Eliza chortled. "All right, then."

"We're the Marauders."

"What a stupid name."

"Oi!" Sirius defended crossly. "Watch it, Skip, that's a right crime."

When finished speaking, Sirius realized that he would very much like to introduce Eliza to his three friends.

He then realized that that would never come to pass.

Eliza began to hum to herself, and Sirius ignored the unsavory thought completely and ate a handful of chocolate chips.

They didn't taste right.

* * *

A/N:

i'm surprised at all of you. i write my first ever sex scene in the last chapter, and you're all so blase about the whole thing. you've been so desensitized by all that smut. tisk. tisk.

anyways, it's friday, and i want pizza and brat pack movies.

yours,

molly

p.s. by the time the next chapter is posted, i'll have seen the first part of deathly hallows!


	15. August 31st, 1976

Chapter Fifteen

August 31st, 1976

Sirius scuffed his boot heel along the side of the curb. After a few days of abstaining, he was smoking again. The urge had beaten him down until finally he succumbed and the pungently sweet smell of the fumes engulfed him. He closed his eyes and breathed in with surrender.

The bike was parked in the same spot it had been positioned in for nearly two months; though, of course, now it was fully functional.

Sirius briefly admired its beauty before throwing his cigarette onto the curb, stamping it out, and lighting himself another.

He leaned back against the grimy pink wall of the building and waited.

The sun had already set by the time Sirius heard the tinkling sound of heels approaching. From the dim lamp in the parking lot, he could see Eliza traipsing out of the corner of his eye. She was wearing that burgundy red dress again.

He had grown quite fond of that dress.

Sirius kept his eyes looking straight-ahead and swallowed one last puff of smoke before throwing down the cigarette and squashing it with the heel of his black, scaly boot.

"Trouble, what are you doing out here?" Eliza chirped at him as she drew closer. "I saw your bike swerve into the parking lot over an hour ago. I've been waiting for you to come inside for ages. I would've been out to get you before this, but Mum kept nagging me to restock the shelves."

Sirius stayed silent as she leaned over to kiss him.

Eliza frowned slightly as she pulled away from his still lips. "You started smoking again?"

Sirius shrugged noncommittally.

"That's fine," she decided good-naturedly. "We'll just get you inside for a strong cup of coffee and some pie – and maybe a toothbrush – and you'll taste just as good as new," she added with an uncharacteristic wink.

Sirius shook his head.

Eliza's smiled faded. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"No, it's a definite something, Sirius. C'mon, you can tell me."

Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets and walked over to his pristine motorbike. He ran a hand lovingly along the gleaming handlebars.

Eliza watched him for a few moments while fiddling with the gold locket that hung around her neck. "Sirius, what's going on?"

He stared at the ground evasively.

"Why don't you come inside? There's plenty of time to mope when you're sitting down."

Still not looking up, Sirius scoffed at her words.

"What's so funny about time?" she asked.

"Everything."

"Well, you're positively loquacious today, aren't you?" Eliza sang in a persistently cheerful tone.

Sirius groaned and sat down onto the curb.

"Look, Sirius, I think I get it."

He rolled his eyes.

"I've been expecting it, really."

"Sure you have."

"You're going away, aren't you?"

His shoulders tensed.

She took a careful step towards him before sitting beside him and pressing the issue further. "Leaving for school?"

Sirius, who had been staring at the bike, raised his gray eyes to her brown ones. "How'd you know?"

Eliza chuckled, though it sounded slightly more forced than her usual laughter. "I do own a calendar, you know. Doesn't really take a genius to figure out when the summer holidays end." There was a strained casualness to her voice, but Sirius could see the signs of devastation in her twitching lips and telling eyes. She turned her head and stood up, straightening out her dress. "So…when do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"So soon?"

He nodded and looked away.

"But you'll be back," she stammered quickly – hopefully. "You probably won't be able to visit me at my shifts after school, but you can stop by on weekends, right? I can see you as soon as Friday!"

Sirius remained silent.

"Well, you must have breaks every so often! Every school goes on break." Eliza pulled at her hair as she waited for him to answer. "Christmas, at least?" she offered weakly. "Surely, not until the next summer holidays!"

Sirius looked up at her with haunted eyes.

"Oh, God," she murmured. "Not even Christmas? What kind of school is it? The Prison Academy?" Her joke fell flat from its poor delivery.

Sirius took a deep breath that seemed to fill the silence. He stood up and took a step towards her. "I can't ask you to wait – "

Eliza held up a hand to silence him. "No, no," she muttered with an emphatic nod of her head as she kept her distance. "I understand completely. We'd both can't just wait around for each other. You probably have loads of other girls waiting for you. I don't want to hold you back. It'd be stupid to stay together that long if we can't see each other. Stupid, stupid…God, I'm just so stupid!"

Sirius strode over to her, and Eliza launched herself into his arms. Watery tears threatened to fall onto her cheeks.

"I'm sorry!" she apologized, sounding mortified as she hastily wiped her eyes. "I didn't mean to get so emotional. You tell me something like a grownup and say it all very properly, and I'm just bawling like a toddler. I'm sorry. God, I don't know what's wrong with me! I'm not trying to be such a ruddy mess. I know this isn't helping any. It didn't go look this in all the versions I practiced in front of the mirror. I was usually charming and aloof. You're really impressed. It's the blasé thing. I was very blasé. In some versions, you even decide not to…It was all very civil. Though, usually, when I said goodbye to you, I didn't imagine it'd be forever."

Sirius placed his hand soothingly through her hair as her words muffled into his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," Sirius said quietly. "I should have never done this to you. Johnny was right. I should have just let you be."

Eliza pulled away from him. Her eyes were shining. "Is that what you think?" she asked disbelievingly.

"It's what I know."

"You don't know anything."

Sirius laughed humorlessly. "I should have never done this to you," he repeated, his voice laced with painful remorse.

"Do you regret it?"

Sirius kissed her swiftly. "Always and never."

"I don't," she croaked out. "I don't regret any of it. Sirius, I don't." Eliza brought her hands to her neck and removed her gold locket. Carefully, she opened Sirius's hand and placed it on his palm. "You shouldn't regret it either."

"I can't – "

"Yes, you can, Trouble," she said bravely as she closed Sirius's fingers around the locket. "You're going to move on and have wonderful adventures and see exciting places. You're someone special in this world Sirius, not some silly girl who makes pies at a lousy diner."

"You're special, Elizabeth Boyd."

Eliza reached up and kissed him softly. "Take me somewhere," she whispered against his lips.

"Where?"

"Somewhere I've never been before."

Sirius took her hand and guided her to the bike. They were silent as he glided the bike through the traffic on the streets. Eliza clung to him until him as the air fell still. Upon arrival at their destination, Sirius led her up the stairs to his flat, and they gently, sweetly, slowly, began to undress each other.

Upon his soft bed, they shared slow, deep kisses and lasting touches. Sirius kept his eyes open the whole time because he wanted to memorize everything about her – the way her delicate skin felt, the narrowness of her hips, the feel of her long brown hair through his fingers, the warmth of her body, the subtle aroma of chocolate, the longing in her eyes, the taste of her cherry on her lips…

Too soon, it was over, and he needed to take her back to her parents' house before her absence became problematic.

The girl kissed him again as familiar tears returned.

"Sirius, I don't want you to leave tomorrow. I don't think I can take it. I'm not ready. We're not ready. Please don't go. Stay with me. Just stay. Please."

Sirius did not say anything.

* * *

_A/N:_

_Bonjour! Fear not, faithfuls! There is still yet another Friday. Thank you for reading, as always._

_yours,_

_Molly_

_P.S. Anyone who wants to discuss Part One, please do it via email (mollyraeslyatgmaildotcom), message, or tweet. I don't want to spoil the film for anyone so please do **NOT** talk about it in the reviews section. Through any other means, however, I would love to talk about it with you!_


	16. September 1st, 1976

Chapter Sixteen

September 1st, 1976

Sirius paced around the floor of his flat. It was exceedingly empty; all he owned was packed away in the large, black trunk that lay at his feet. It was the trunk his parents had bought him before his first year at Hogwarts; there was still a small, faded Black family coat of arms embossed on the side. Sirius had always meant to purchase a new one, but he somehow managed to forget with each coming school year.

Sirius glanced up at a small clock hanging next to his unused stove. He really needed to be going.

His brain sent the message, but it must have gotten lost in translation because his feet refused to move to the door. His synapses were being belligerent.

He looked up at the clock again. _I do not have time for this_, he thought, frustrated with himself.

Yet, his decision was made.

Swiftly, Sirius pried open the lock to his trunk and pushed away unread school textbooks and dirty, unfolded clothes until he found what he was looking for.

Sirius lifted the mirror to his face and said, "James Potter" to the reflecting glass.

He waited foolishly for a few moments as he hoped his friend had his matching mirror at hand.

Sirius exhaled in relief when his reflected gray eyes suddenly turned hazel, and he was no longer staring at himself but at the image of his best friend.

"Oi, Mum! I told you I don't need any more pairs of socks!"

"James!"

"Hey, Padfoot," James greeted him cheerfully. "What's going on? Did you find any new leads on that hex Peter was telling us about? I'd love to give it a go on old Snivellus."

Sirius shook his head.

James nodded reluctantly. "Probably better off, I suppose. Evans will murder me if I have another go at him. You don't think she really likes him like that, do you, mate?"

Only out of true loyalty to his friend did Sirius resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Look, James, I can't go to King's Cross with you."

The dazed look on James's face disappeared, and he suddenly looked suspicious. "Why not?" he asked. "More problems with the bike?"

"No, she's fine. It's nothing like that. I just have to run a quick errand before the train, is all."

"Are you running out to Gringotts again? Merlin, I swear, Sirius, you go through gold like it was pumpkin juice. What'd you buy now?"

Sirius shrugged. "I like what I like."

"Cheers to that!" chirped James with a hearty nod while subconsciously ruffling up his hair. "Damn," he muttered.

"What?"

James looked rather sheepish. "Mum told me not to do that anymore. Says she gets where Evans's coming from about it making me look like a toerag. Reckons I should attempt to redeem myself now that I've mucked everything up last year after our O.W.L.s."

"You told your mum that?"

"Course. Tell her everything."

A flash of jealousy surged through Sirius but disappeared before he could really identify it for what it was.

"Left out the bit about hexing Snivelly, though," James added offhandedly.

Bemused, Sirius shook his head slowly.

James looked over his shoulder and then turned back to Sirius. "I should go, Padfoot. Left the packing till this morning. I'll see you at the station? I'll buy you some Chocolate Frogs, and everything."

"Yeah, I shouldn't be long."

"You better not be. Prefect Moony'll give you detention."

Both boys snickered together.

"See you in a bit, mate."

"Farewell, Messr. Prongs."

James winked and then was gone.

Hurriedly, Sirius stuffed the mirror into his trunk between a few rolls of parchment and his broomstick and then began to drag the heavy trunk down the stairs of his apartment building without a look back at his flat.

Sirius wished he could have enchanted the trunk to make it feather-light.

With a great deal of effort, he managed to strap the trunk onto the back of his bike using magically extendable rope and then got on himself.

He drove too quickly and wiggled his way into empty pockets that would never have fit the bike if it had not been for a few charms the bike had. He did not stop at any traffic lights, and he managed to arrive at Marty's Diner in record speed.

There were two cars he easily recognized in the parking lot. The Boyd family was already there.

Sirius stowed his bike around the back of the building. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

It was though a fiery impetus inside him had compelled him to this very spot.

Now that he was there, however, Sirius did not know what to do. He couldn't go inside. He had already said his last goodbye. It would be too painful to drudge up any more parting words. Yet, even though time was short and he really needed to head for King's Cross, Sirius could not bring himself to leave.

Around the corner, the door opened. He could hear that damn bell ringing. Sirius did not know how he knew, but he was inexplicably certain that it was Eliza who had just opened the door. Impulsively, Sirius transformed himself into a dog.

Feeling suddenly free from himself, Sirius bounded away towards the noise.

He was not surprised - and yet he was - to see Eliza standing there in her yellow apron with the red trimming and holding his leather jacket in her hands.

As she sat down onto the curb, Sirius wanted to go up to her and eagerly wave his tail around, but when he saw her face, his tail drooped.

She was crying silently to herself.

His ears perked on his tilted head, the dog slowly pussyfooted in her direction.

A wounded whimper left his snout, and the girl looked up.

"Hey there, stray," she greeted him with a sniff before hastily wiping away the tears from her cheek.

The dog muzzled his face into her lap.

"The jacket, I know," she said bitterly. "It's stupid and silly and everything else Johnny can think up to call me. It's just the only thing I have of him… And now…I can't believe he's gone."

She sniffed again.

The dog licked her fingers.

"I knew he'd leave," she continued, her words coming out as a stream of consciousness bubbling from her lips. "I knew it. He didn't belong here. It's what first attracted me to him, I think. I knew this was just a bump in his path until he could move on to something far better. I kind of hate him for that."

Eliza smiled sadly as she petted the dog between his ears.

"Mostly, though, I think I loved him."

The dog stilled underneath her hand.

Eliza chuckled humorlessly. "Isn't that just the yummy drizzle on a chocolate crème pie? I loved him. Too bad he'll never know. I don't think I'll ever get to see him again. Bloody prick."

She laughed again, but then her face crumpled and she started to cry.

The dog left her lap, and with a pop, it was gone.

"Sirius?"

Eliza put one hand over her eyes and then used the other to pinch herself on the arm. She took a deep breath and then peeped open one eye. Her mouth dropped. "Oh my God, Sirius?" she gasped.

Teetering uncomfortably, Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets.

"How did...you just...there was a dog and then...how?"

He did not answer. He could not comprehend what was going on. He was nonplussed as to why he would suddenly break the Statute of Secrecy. He hadn't even meant to. One second he had been a dog and the next...

_Ahh, fuck_, he kept repeating in his head.

"Sirius, now really isn't the time for Mr. Taciturn!" She was standing now. Her face was inches from his…kissing distance. "SIRIUS!"

He started at her shrillness.

"How did you get here? Where did that dog go? Why are you here? Don't you have school?"

"Yes."

"Huh?"

"I do have school. If I don't leave soon I'll probably miss my train."

"And?"

Sirius sighed.

"The dog? Why'd it mysteriously disappear when you showed up? Did you frighten it away with the power of your surly glare?"

"I am the dog."

"Is that supposed to be some kind of womanizer metaphor?"

Sirius took a deep breath. "Eliza, I can transform into a dog. It's magic."

"Which would make you some type of dog whisperer magician."

Sirius pulled out a thin wand from his back pocket. "Wizard."

Eliza backed up. Her face was blank with shock. Then, a giggle escaped her lips, which evolved into a full fit of hysteria. "Oh, I sure know how to pick them."

"I know it sounds crazy - "

"Crazy? Sirius, you've just told me you're a wizard. I'm thinking that's past crazy and heading dangerously close into completely bonkers territory."

"Eliza."

"Is this some cruel way of breaking up with me again? Because I was crushed enough the first time."

"Eliza, I'm a wizard. Magic is real. There's a whole world out there you don't know about for people like me."

"Magic?" she said weakly.

"C'mon, Eliza, you have a nymph poster hanging on your wall."

"Those are fairy princesses," Eliza corrected.

"I'm telling you the truth. You know I am, otherwise I'd just be silent."

She almost cracked a smile.

"Please believe me."

Eliza deliberated for a moment.

Sirius felt as though she was employing Occlumency due to the intensity of her gaze.

"Oh bleeding Jesus, I think I must be going crazy too. This is utter insanity. It's completely nonsensical! Sirius Black, you make no sense!"

"But you believe me?'

"Well, obviously, or I wouldn't be so ruddy confused!"

He grinned.

"Is this your secret, Sirius Black?"

"The main one."

"I knew you were special."

Sirius laughed. "Yeah, just me."

"You are," she told him.

"You're special."

Eliza smiled briefly. "But you're not going to stay, are you?" she deduced wisely. "You still have to go. Wizards have very important things to do," she struggled to keep a straight face but could not manage it.

"You're trivializing me."

"A bit."

"You're laughing at me."

"Always."

Sirius's gaze intensified. "You love me."

Eliza sighed. "Yes," she admitted. "Too bad it doesn't change anything."

"I wish -"

Eliza laughed and put her hand on his face. "Oh, Trouble, don't start wishing now. That's not who you are."

"I think that I was in - that I - "

Words failed him.

"Don't," Eliza pleaded. "I don't think I can watch you go if you say it."

Sirius wiped a tear from her eye.

"You have to go," Eliza announced feebly as she backed away. "You have to go now because every second longer you stay here I fall that much more in love with you. I can't love you anymore, Sirius. It hurts because I know it doesn't mean anything."

"Eliza – "

She placed a hand over his mouth. "You have to leave before I can't stand to see you go."

Sirius nodded and took her hand away from his face and held it between his palms. "I don't want to leave you."

"Then stay."

"Eliza."

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. She removed her hand from his. "Sorry. Stupid request. I should know better. Right, well. This is it. This is really it."

Sirius pulled her into his arms. "I shouldn't have come. I just had to see you. I needed you to know. I couldn't leave without you knowing."

Eliza's lower lip trembled, and she fiddled with her long, brown hair. "I won't forget. Sirius, I'll always remember."

Sirius moved forward and kissed her. He felt wetness in his own eyes as she clung to him.

"I won't forget you. I'll never ever forget."

"I know," Sirius agreed. "That's why I have to do this."

Sirius took a shaky breath before he kissed her again. Salty tears welled up in his eyes, but he struggled to see her face one last time. He tried to memorize the shape of her eyes, the color of her hair, the curve of her neck, the freckles on her cheeks. His lips hesitated over hers as he tried to register the notion that he would never kiss her again. He closed his eyes and moved his lips desperately against hers. It was too painful to entertain. His love for the girl was incapable of being forgotten. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Sirius raised his wand. "_Obliviate_!"

Her eyes immediately became unfocused. Stowing his wand away, Sirius looked at her one last time before picking up his fallen leather jacket and sprinting away to his secluded motorbike.

Eliza blinked five times. Her head felt dizzy and light. She looked around at the empty parking lot and tried to remember why she had gone outside. She couldn't remember what could have possibly compelled her. For a second, she thought she saw a tawny owl dip behind the trees. Only, of course, that didn't make any sense. Owls didn't normally fly during the day.

Tying back on her yellow apron with red trimming, Eliza shook her head and went back inside the diner.

Susan Boyd looked up when the bell sounded. "Hello, dear."

"Hi, Mum."

"You okay? You look a bit peaky."

"I'm fine."

"Where's your locket Aunt Mary bought for you?"

Eliza reached up and felt her bare neck. "I must have lost it."

Johnny walked by with a tray of glasses. "No Sirius today? Ruddy glad to be rid of that berk."

"Johnny!" Susan scolded. "Sirius was a lovely boy. He meant a lot to your sister."

Eliza tilted her head in confusion. "Who's Sirius?"

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading!_

_Yours,_

_Molly_


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